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COPYRIGHTED,    1885,    BV 

CHAS.  S.  FEE,  GENERAL  PASSENGER  AGENT  NORTHERN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD, 
ST.  PAUL. 


GREAT  FALLS  op  THE  YELLOWSTONE  RIVEI;  (350  FT.),  NATIONAL  PARK. 


(2) 


1  Ml     UAK'DI 


>HIS  is  a  world  of  wonders !  Rigid  and 
inflexible  as  are  the  Laws  of  Nature,  their 
products  and  manifestations  are  almost  infi- 
nite in  their  number  and  variety.  They  are  also  so  distributed 
over  the  face  of  the  earth,  that  no  land,  no  continent  even, 
possesses,  or,  except  under  seemingly  impossible  conditions, 
ever  can  possess  them  all.  We  have,  therefore,  only  to  travel  far  enough 
from  home  to  encounter  what  will  fill  us  with  wonder  and  astonishment. 
In  all  the  grander  and  sterner  aspects  of  Nature,  as  in  those  which  are 
gentler,  and,  to  our  thinking,  more  beneficent,  our  own  great  continent  is 
more  or  less  rich  ;  and  the  traveler  who  has  journeyed  eastward  to  climb 
the  castled  crags  of  Rhineland  and  survey  the  mighty  peaks  and  won- 
drous glaciers  of  the  Alps,  who  has  wandered  among  the  ruins  of  venerable 
abbeys  and  ghostly  halls,  listened  to  the  majestic  swell  of  music  in  the  dim 
aisles  of  stately  cathedrals,  gazed  upon  the  marvelous  creations  of  Michael 
Angelo  and  Da  Vinci,  and  stood  within  the  shadow  of  the  pyramids, —  may  well 
turn  westward  to  view  the  greater  wonders  of  his  own  land. 

Beyond  the  Great  Lakes,  far  from  the  hum  of  New  England  factories,  far 
from  the  busy  throng  of  Broadway,  from  the  smoke  and  grime  of  iron  cities, 
and  the  dull,  prosaic  life  of  many  another  Eastern  town,  lies  a  region  which 
may  justly  be  designated  the  Wonderland  of  the  World.  Hitherto  it  has  been 
closed  to  all  but  the  most  adventurous  spirits  ;  but  now,  not  only  has  it  been 
made  easy  of  access,  but  it  may  be  visited  as  comfortably,  yea,  as  luxuriously, 
as  any  of  the  older  resorts  of  the  pleasure  seeker.  It  is  through  some  portions 
of  this  hitherto  terra  incognita  that  the  reader  of  the  following  pages  will,  in 
imagination,  be  conducted,  in  the  hope  that  his  interest  in  it  will  be  so  far 
excited  that  he  may  be  led  to  visit  it,  and  look  with  his  own  eyes  upon  its 
manifold  and  matchless  wonders. 


The  Wonders  of  the  World — Introductory, 3 

St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis,  Minn.,      ...  ...        5 

Lake  Minnetonka,  Minn., .6 

Lake  Park  Region  of  Minnesota, .  8 

Duluth  and  the  City  of  Superior 8 

Detroit  and  Detroit  Lake,  Minn 9 

The  Great  Territory  of  Dakota — Statistics  of  its  Development,     ...  1 1 

Moorhead,  Minn.,  and  Fargo,  Dakota 12 

Wheat  Fields  of  Dakota, 13 

Sea-Bathing  in  Northern  Dakota, 15 

Bismarck,  the  Capital  of  Dakota .  16 

Pyramid  Park,  or  "Bad  Lands,"  Dakota 18 

Glendive  and  Miles  City,  Yellowstone  Valley,  Montana, .        19-21 

Hunter's  Hot  Springs — A  Popular  Resort 22 

Yellowstone  National  Park , 24 

The  Northern  Pacific  Railroad:  practically  the  Only  Route  to  the  National  Park,  .      .      24 

Location  of  the  National  Park,       .  25 

The  Geysers — "Old  Faithful,"  "  Giantess,"  etc.,  etc., 25-26 

Mount  Washburn — The  "  Pisgah  "  of  the  Park, 28-29- 

What  Distinguished  Men  have  Said  about  the  Wonders  of  the  National  Park,      .      .      -29-33 

The  Great  Falls  and  Grand  Cafion  of  the  Yellowstone 33 

Hotel  Accommodations  in  the  National  Park, 34 

Westward  Still, , 36 

Bozeman,  Montana ....      36 

Helena,  Montana,  and  the  Great  Mullan  Tunnel, .      .       39  -  40 

Lake  Pend  d'Oreille,  Idaho 42 

Lake  Coeur  d'Atene  and  Spokane  Falls, 43 

Mount  Hood,  Oregon, 44,    48 

The  Columbia  River, 44-50 

Portland,  Oregon 50 

Astoria  and  the  Lower  Columbia, 51 

Tacoma  :  Its  Hotel — Mount  Tacoma  and  its  Glaciers, 52-55 

Alaska — "The  Land  of  the  Midnight  Sun," 55-64. 


INDEX 


GUTS. 


Alaska's  Thousand  Islands,  as  Seen  from  Sitka,     .  63 

An  Alaska  House,  with  Totem  Poles,     ....  60 

Chancel  of  Greek  Church,  Sitka. 56 

Detroit  Lake  and  Hotel  Minnesota,  Detroit,  Minn.,  7 

Falls  of  the  Gibbon  River— National  Park,    ...  23 

Ferry  on  the  Yellowstone  River, 14 

Floating  Fish  Wheel — Columbia  River,      ....  42 

Great  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone — National  Park,    .  2 

Hotel  Tacoma,  Tacoma,  W.  T., 49 

Lake  Pend  d'Oreille,  Idaho, 35 


PACK 

Mammoth  Hot  Springs  Hotel— National  Park,  .     .   17 
Mount  Hood,  from  the  Head  of  the  Dalles,  Colum- 
bia River, 38 

Multnomah  Falls — Columbia  River, 46 

Plowing  on  a  Dakota  Wheat  Field, 10 

Pulpit  Terrace,  Mammoth   Hot  Springs — National 

Park, 32 

Sitka,  Alaska, 53 

Views  of  "  Old  Faithful "  Geyser, 27 

Yellowstone  River — National  Park, 20 


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"  To  the  kingdom  of  the  West-Wind, 
To  the  land  of  the  Dacotahs." 


H  E  cities  of  St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis,  four  hundred 
and  ten  and  four  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  respect- 
ively, northwest  of  Chicago,  are  the  twin  columns  of 
the  eastern  gateway  to  that  magnificent  country  to 
which  the  attention  of  the  health  and  pleasure  seeker 
will  be  directed  in  the  following  pages.  Those  of  the 
western  gateway  are  Portland  and  Tacoma,  and  within 
the  bounds  of  that  imperial  domain  are  to  be  found 
the  most  fertile  plains,  the  most  magnificent  rivers 
and  the  noblest  mountains  in  the  world.  Here,  also, 
have  been  discovered,  in  greater  profusion  than  in  any  other 
region  of  either  hemisphere,  the  grotesque  and  fantastic  prod- 
ucts of  nature's  more  playful  and  capricious  moods.  These  constitute  in  the 
main  the-  Wonderland  to  which  we  are  bound  ;  and  that  we  may  travel  over 
that  great  railroad,  the  construction  of  which  has  brought  them  within  our 
reach,  and  which  has  come  to  be  known  by  the  well  deserved  title  of  the 
Wonderland  Route  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  we  are  here,  at  one  or  the  other  of 
those  two  great  cities  which  have  sprung  into  existence,  side  by  side,  in  the 
rich  and  rapidly  growing  State  of  Minnesota. 

St.  Paul  and  Minneapolis  owe  their  commercial  importance  entirely  to 
the  development  of  the  vast  territory  lying  back  of  them.  Their  growth  is 
almost  unexampled,  not  even  Chicago  presenting  a  more  astonishing  picture 
of  rapid  expansion.  In  1860  the  total  population  of  the  two  cities  was  but 
16,222.  To-day  it  exceeds  250,000  ;  and  the  time  is  not  far  distant  when  they 
will  together  form  one  great  metropolitan  city,  the  capital  of  the  Northwest, 
rivaling  even  Chicago  itself.  At  present  their  interests  are  not  identical ;  but, 
with  the  rapid  extension  of  their  boundaries,  the  two  cities  must  soon  become 

(5) 


6  THE  WONDERLAND  ROUTE. 

one,  and  their  interests  common.  St.  Paul  is  slightly  the  older,  and  enjoys  what- 
ever prestige  attaches  to  the  capital  of  an  important  State.  Built  mainly  on  a 
series  of  terraces  rising  from  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  and  forming  a  natural 
amphitheatre,  it  commands  extensive  and  magnificent  views  of  the  great  Father 
of  Waters,  which,  though  2,200  miles  from  its  mouth,  is  here  1,300  feet  broad. 
During  the  summer  months  steamboats  between  St.  Paul  and  St.  Louis,  791  miles- 
distant,  arrive  and  depart  almost  daily.  The  magnificent  business  blocks  of  the 
city  bear  witness  to  that  commercial  importance  which  its  position  at  the  head  of 
navigation  and  as  the  focus  of  the  railway  activity  of  the  Northwest  has  gained 
for  it.  Minneapolis  is  built  on  a  broad  esplanade  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river, 
near  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony,  the  immense  power  of  which,  variously  estimated 
at  from  120,000  to  150,000  horse-power,  is  utilized  in  those  colossal  flouring  mills, 
which,  laying  the  entire  Northwest  under  contribution,  have  made  the  name  of 
Minneapolis  a  household  word  even  in  cities  of  the  Old  World.  Under  the 
shadow  of  those  mills  have  sprung  up  wholesale  houses,  carrying  stocks  that 
would  astonish  many  an  Eastern  merchant;  luxurious  hotels,  elegant  theatres,  and 
many  other  evidences  of  wealth  and  enterprise.  Who  shall  venture  to  foretell 
the  destiny  of  these  great  cities  ?  Within  the  last  three  years  they  have  doubled 
their  population — no  uncommon  thing  in  the  infancy  of  a  community,  but  of 
exceedingly  rare  occurrence  in  cities  of  larger  growth.  Not  since  1850-53  has 
Chicago  increased  its  population  in  anything  like  that  ratio.  The  year  1884 
witnessed  the  erection  of  5,027  new  buildings  in  the  two  cities,  at  a  cost  of 
$17,209,900.  While  many  charming  residences  were  numbered  among  them, 
by  far  the  greater  proportion  are  now  employed  in  maintaining  and  developing 
the  trade  and  commerce  of  the  great  dual  metropolis. 

Within  a  few  miles  of  the  twin  cities  are  the  charming  lakes  of  White  Bear 
and  Minnetonka.  The  former  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  summer  resorts  in 
Minnesota,  combining  beautiful  scenery,  good  hotel  accommodations,  and  excel- 
lent boating  and  fishing.  Minnetonka,  the  Saratoga  of  the  Northwest,  enjoys  a 
great  celebrity  for  the  beauty  of  its  scenery  and  the  luxuriousness  of  its  hotels. 
During  the  season  its  picturesque  shores  are  much  frequented  by  visitors  from 
the  Central  and  Western  States,  and  the  Lower  Mississippi  valley.  On  one  of 
its  outlets  the  far-famed  falls  of  Minnehaha,  immortalized  by  Longfellow — 

"  Flash  and  gleam  among  the  oak-trees, 
Laugh  and  leap  into  the  valley." 

The  great  attractions  of  the  State  of  Minnesota  are  undoubtedly  its  pine  for- 
ests, covering  nearly  one-half  of  the  State,  and  its  numerous  beautiful  lakes. 
The  number  of  the  latter  has  been  estimated  at  as  high  as  10,000.  They  vary 
from  a  few  hundred  yards  to  fifteen  miles  in  diameter,  and  their  waters,  cool  and 
transparent,  abound  with  every  variety  of  fresh-water  fish. 

Leaving  the  Union  Depot,  St.  Paul,  by  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  the 
tourist  is  soon  traveling  at  a  rapid  rate  and  over  an  excellent  road,  in  a  north- 
westerly direction,  toward  the 


(7) 


8  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

Lake  Park  Region  of  Minnesota. 

At  Little  Falls,  105  miles  from  St.  Paul,  the  Little  Falls  &  Dakota  Division 
leaves  the  Main  Line.  A  run  of  sixty  miles  on  this  branch  brings  us  to  Glen- 
wood.  This  charming  village  is  situated  on  the  north  shore  of  Lake  Minne- 
waska,  in  a  most  beautiful  valley,  encompassed  by  high  bluffs.  Minnewaska  is 
considered  by  many  visitors  the  most  beautiful  lake  in  the  State.  It  is  twelve 
miles  in  length,  and  four  miles  in  width,  with  a  shore  line  of  some  forty  miles. 
Its  shores  are  sandy,  with  a  pebbly  beach,  most  of  which  is  lined  with  a  beautiful 
border  of  timber.  A  smooth  carriage  road  runs  the  entire  distance  around  the 
lake,  close  to  the  water's  edge.  The  water  is  beautifully  clear,  and  abounds  with 
pickerel,  pike,  whitefish,  bass,  and  other  varieties  of  the  finny  tribe.  Glenwood 
has  two  hotels,  two  churches,  and  other  public  buildings,  and  is  rapidly  becoming 
one  of  the  finest  summer  resorts  in  Minnesota. 

Resuming  our  journey  on  the  Main  Line,  we  soon  come  to  Brainerd,  finely 
situated  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Mississippi  river,  in  a  forest  of  pine.  The 
selection  of  this  city  for  the  location  of  the  machine  shops  of  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railroad,  has  made  it  a  place  of  considerable  importance,  and  it  already 
has  a  population  of  10,000.  Lakes,  with  excellent  fishing,  abound  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  there  is  the  finest  deer  shooting  in  the  State.  From  Brainerd,  the 
traveler  may  advantageously  turn  eastward  ar  J  visit  the  city  of  Duluth,  on  Lake 
Superior.  This  is  an  important  terminal  point  of  the  railroad,  and  the  most  west- 
ern of  all  the  cities  which  lie  on  the  great  chain  of  North  American  lakes.  It 
has  a  population  of  17,000,  an  excellent  harbor,  and,  with  the  extension  of  the 
railroad,  its  business  is  rapidly  assuming  great  importance.  Its  principal  trade 
is  in  grain,  for  the  storage  of  which  it  has  six  mammoth  elevators,  while  it  is 
also  the  centre  of  a  large  lumber  industry.  The  city  presents  a  bold  and  pictur- 
esque appearance,  whether  approached  by  water  or  by  rail.  It  enjoys  a  delight- 
fully cool  temperature  in  summer;  and  the  advantages  it  offers  to  the  artist,  the 
geologist,  the  angler,  the  sportsman,  and  the  health  seeker,  make  it  a  most 
attractive  resort,  and  insure  its  continued  growth  in  popularity.  It  has  several 
hotels,  with  excellent  accommodations,  and  is  well  supplied  with  religious  and 
educational  advantages.  The  scenery  for  some  miles  west  of  Duluth  is  exceed- 
ingly picturesque,  the  views  from  the  car  windows  being  a  delightful  succession 
of  surprises.  In  the  vicinity  are  the  beautiful  Dalles  of  the  St.  Louis. 

The  neighboring  city  of  Superior,  in  Douglas  county,  Wis.,  has  terminal 
facilities  quite  equal  to  those  of  Duluth.  Ten  miles  distant  are  the  famous 
Black  River  Falls.  The  cataract  is  210  feet  in  height,  and  its  waters  are  of 
ebony  blackness. 

Returning  to  Brainerd,  we  soon  find  ourselves  in  the  heart  of  the  Lake  Park 
region,  Otter  Tail  county,  the  entire  area  of  which  abounds  with  lovely  sheets 
of  water  and  rich  timber,  being  entered  soon  after  the  train  leaves  the  village  of 
Wadena,  at  which  station  we  change  cars  for  the  Fergus  Falls  &  Black  Hills 
Branch.  Following  this  branch  for  twenty-nine  miles,  we  arrive  at  a  little  town 
situated  near  three  of  the  finest  and  largest  lakes  in  this  renowned  region. 


-TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  9 

Clitherall  Lake  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  about  four  miles  in  length,  teeming 
with  innumerable  varieties  of  fish.  Its  shores  are  haunted  by  water-fowl  in  great 
numbers.  South  of  Clitherall  stretches  a  fine  prairie  country,  abounding  in 
game.  There  are  numerous  beautiful  drives  in  the  neighborhood,  and,  last  but 
by  no  means  least,  two  good  hotels.  Four  miles  distant  is  the  well-known  Battle 
Lake,  at  the  western  extremity  of  which  has  sprung  up  the  town  of  the  same 
name.  From  an  elevated  standpoint,  no  fewer  than  seventeen  beautiful  lakes 
can  be  seen  within  a  radius  of  five  miles.  It  should  be  stated  that  there  are  two 
Battle  Lakes,  distinguished  as  East  and  West.  Each  has  its  beauties,  and  what 
has  already  been  said  with  reference  to  the  attractions  of  other  Minnesota  lakes 
will  apply  also  to  these  charming  resorts.  The  dividing  line  between  the  terri- 
tories of  the  Sioux  and  Chippewa  Indians  ran  through  this  neighborhood,  and 
many  sanguinary  engagements  have  been  fought  here. 

Resuming  our  journey  at  Wadena,  we  again  travel  in  a  northwesterly  direc- 
tion, and  soon  enter  Becker  county,  the  banner  wheat-producing  county  of  the 
State,  the  characteristics  of  which  are  in  the  main  the  same  as  those  of  Otter  Tail 
county,  the  prairie  and  woodland  being  finely  intermingled,  and  presenting  many 
charming  landscapes.  No  other  part  of  Minnesota  is  so  beautifully  diversified 
as  this  district  of  country,  where  the  woodlands  broadly  open  and  mingle  with 
the  prairie  in  groves  and  clustering  groups  of  forest  trees,  the  diversity  being 
everywhere  rendered  complete  by  lakes  and  lakelets  without  number. 

The  county  seat  of  this  beautiful  county  is  Detroit,  227  miles  from  St.  Paul, 
charmingly  situated  just  on  the  dividing  line  of  the  timber  and  prairie  country, 
the  former  lying  to  the  east  of  the  town,  the  latter  stretching  away  westward. 
This  picturesque  spot  holds  out  to  the  pleasure  seeker,  invalid  and  sportsman  a 
rare  combination  of  attractions.  Half  a  mile  only  from  the  business  portion  of 
the  city  lies  Detroit  Lake,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  sheets  of  water  in  the  State. 
Its  wooded  shores  and  pebbly  beach  ;  the  broad  expanse  of  prairie,  dotted  with 
innumerable  lakelets,  like  diamonds  set  in  emeralds  ;  the  shady  groves  of  forest 
trees  and  the  cool  grottoes  of  the  neighboring  bluffs  ;  the  air  laden  with  the  rich 
perfume  of  wild  flowers  and  vocal  with  the  melodious  songs  of  birds  ;  game  of 
every  description  known  in  the  Northwest,  in  astonishing  abundance  ;  and,  last 
but  not  least,  first-class  hotel  accommodations  at  very  moderate  rates  ;  these  have 
combined  to  make  Detroit  what  it  is  to-day — the  most  popular  and  attractive 
resort  in  the  Northwest,  and  to  double  its  resident  population  during  the  year 
1884.  Twenty-five  miles  north  is  the  White  Earth  Reservation  of  the  Chippewa, 
or  Ojibway,  Indians,  of  whom  there  are  1,500,  civilized,  and  largely  Christian- 
ized. Visitors  are  always  welcome,  and  Eastern  tourists  carry  back  few  pleasanter 
reminiscences  than  those  of  their  visit  to  White  Earth.  Thirteen  miles  west  is 
Lake  Park,  a  young  and  prosperous  business  town,  with  several  large  wheat  farms 
in  the  neighborhood.  We  are  still  in  the  Lake  Park  region,  and  the  natural 
features  of  the  country  are  those  with  which  we  have  become  familiar,  if,  indeed, 
we  ever  can  become  familiar  with  scenery  so  richly  diversified. 


10 


THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 


We  are  now  approaching  the  western  boundary  of  this  great  and  beautiful 
State  ;  and,  while  the  train  pursues  its  way  down  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Red 
River  valley,  we  may,  although  tourists  and  not  emigrants,  pleasure  seekers 
rather  than  land  seekers,  consider  for  a  moment  what  the  last  twenty  years  have 
done  for  the  State  in  which  we  have  so  pleasantly  spent  the  last  few  days. 
Twenty  years  ago,  within  the  lifetime  of  some  of  our  children,  Minnesota  had  ten 
miles  of  railroad  ;  to-day  it  has  between  4,000  and  5,000.  In  1860  its  population 
was  172,023,  which  had  grown  from  6,077  in  a  single  decade  ;  to-day  it  exceeds 
and  the  State  has,  as  we  have  seen,  two  distinct  and  self-contained 


1,000,000 


PLOWING  ON  A  DAKOTA  WHEAT  FIELD.    Seepage  13. 

cities,  which  are  rapidly  taking  their  places  among  the  foremost  cities  on  the 
continent.  Little  more  than  twenty  years  ago,  the  country  was  thrilled  by  tidings 
that  the  murderous  Sioux  had  made  an  incursion  into  Minnesota,  and  butchered, 
with  every  species  of  inhumanity,  more  than  3,000  men,  women  and  children  ; 
to-day  the  noble  red  men  are  confined  within  certain  reservations,  many  of  their 
children  are  being  educated  at  Hampton  and  Carlisle,  and  they  themselves  are 
yielding  to  the  humanizing  influences  of  the  advancing  tide  of  civilization. 
Twenty  years  ago,  the  cereal  productions  of  the  State  were  unimportant;  to-day, 
notwithstanding  its  extensive  water  surface  and  pine  forests,  Minnesota  ranks 
fifth  in  cereal  productions  among  the  States  and  Territories  of  the  Union,  if  we 
exclude  the  production  of  corn,  which  can  not  be  successfully  cultivated  in  this 


TO   THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  11 

latitude.  But  we  are  rapidly  approaching  a  Territory,  the  development  of  which 
within  a  single  decade  is  more  remarkable  still. 

The  Yellowstone  National  Park,  toward  which  we  are  all  the  while  tending, 
and  which  will  be  described — if,  indeed,  the  task  is  not  a  hopeless  one — in  its 
proper  place,  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  all  natural  wonders,  Our  Wonderland  of 
the  World  is  not,  however,  made  up  only  of  glaciers,  geysers  and  cascades.  On 
our  westward  journey  we  travel  for  more  than  350  miles  across  the  great  Terri- 
tory of  Dakota,  the  recenj;  marvelous  development  of  the  resources  of  which 
will  form  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  instructive  chapters  in  the  history  of 
the  nineteenth  century.  If  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  romance  of  figures, 
surely  it  is  here  that  we  may  look  for  it;  if  statistics  ever  read  like  a  fairy  tale, 
it  is  in  the  story  of  the  astonishingly  rapid  growth  of  this  Territory  in  wealth 
and  population. 

Not  since  the  memorable  days  when  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California  gave 
its  mighty  impulse  to  Western  colonization,  has  any  other  State  or  Territory  of 
the  Union  been  the  scene  of  such  an  astonishing  increase  of  population  and  so 
wonderful  a  development  of  its  natural  resources  as  we  have  witnessed  in  Da- 
kota within  the  last  five  years.  When,  in  1861,  it  received  a  Territorial  organi- 
zation, in  which  were  included  the  whole  of  Eastern  Montana  and  a  portion  of 
what  is  now  Wyoming,  its  entire  white  population  numbered  less  than  3,000. 
The  census  of  1870  found  it  with  its  territory  reduced  to  its  present  limits,  and 
with  a  white  population  of  12,887,  mainly  settled  in  the  southeastern  part  of  the 
Territory,  along  the  Missouri  river.  The  next  decade  saw  the  beginning  of  a 
marvelous  transformation,  to  be  brought  about  by  the  inpouring  of  three  distinct 
streams  of  immigration :  one  to  the  Black  Hills,  attracted  by  the  discovery  of 
gold;  another,  composed  mainly  of  old  settlers  from  Iowa  and  Nebraska,  into 
the  southeastern  counties;  and  the  third,  and  most  important  of  all — following 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad — from  Minnesota,  through  the  Red  River  valley, 
destined  to  overspread  the  whole  of  the  northern  part  of  the  Territory.  By  the 
summer  of  1880  the  population  had  increased  to  135,180,  of  whom  51,793  were 
of  foreign  birth.  But,  rapid  as  was  the  increase  of  the  Territory  in  population 
and  corresponding  production  from  1877  to  1880,  its  subsequent  progress  has 
been  still  more  remarkable.  Since  the  beginning  of  the  present  decade,  its  growth 
has  far  exceeded  the  largest  expectations  that  its  earlier  progress,  marvelous 
as  it  was,  would  at  all  have  justified.  Already  the  135,000  inhabitants  in  1880, 
have  become  at  least  450,000  ;  the  7,352,589  bushels  of  cereals  have  grown 
to  nearly  40,000,000  ;  and  the  six  national  and  eighteen  private  banks  have 
increased  to  no  fewer  than  211.  These  astonishing  facts,  however,  but  faintly 
foreshadow  what  coming  years  will  witness.  This  magnificent  Territory  has  an 
area  of  149,100  square  miles,  which  is  considerably  larger  than  that  of  the 
United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland.  Millions  upon  millions  of  acres 
of  land — land  which  needs  but  to  be  tickled  with  a  plow  to  smile  a  golden  har- 
vest— have  yet  to  be  settled  upon;  and,  when  the  relations  of  the  national  gov- 
ernment with  the  Indians,  whose  reservations  now  comprise  about  one-third  of 


12  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

the  entire  area  of  the  Territory,  are  such  as  to  enable  it  to  adopt  the  enlightened 
and  indeed  only  true  economic  policy  of  substituting  for  the  prevailing  system 
of  tribal  reservations  that  of  allotment  in  severally,  settling  each  family  upon  its 
own  quarter-section,  many  thousands  of  square  miles  will  be  made  available  for 
colonization. 

But  the  spires  of  Moorhead  are  in  view,  and  we  are  about  to  cross  the  famous 
Red  River  of  the  North.  This  stream  is  so  named  to  distinguish  it  from  the 
Red  River  of  Louisiana.  It  forms  the  boundary  between  Minnesota  and  Dakota, 
flowing  northward  into  Lake  Winnipeg.  From  this  point  to  the  city  of  Winni- 
peg it  is  navigable;  and  large  quantities  of  wheat,  farm  machinery  and  general 
merchandise  are  conveyed  by  steamers  which  ply  between  the  several  towns 
along  its  banks.  There  is  abundant  evidence  that  the  Red  River  formerly  ran 
from  north  to  south.  Its  contrary  course  in  this  age  subjects  a  large  part  of  the 
country  through  which  it  runs  to  an  annual  overflow,  due  to  the  fact  that  the 
winter  ice  breaks  up  first  in  the  southern  part  of  the  stream,  and  the  river,  ice- 
bound in  its  northern  portion,  is  unable  to  carry  off  the  immense  volume  of 
water  which  the  genial  currents  of  spring  have  liberated.  On  the  Minnesota 
side  of  the  Red  River  stands  the  city  of  Moorhead,  a  place  of  steady  and  sub- 
stantial growth,  and  of  financial  solidity.  One  of  the  best  hotels  west  of  Chi- 
cago invites  the  tourist  to  make  this  city  a  halting  place.  From  its  location, 
Moorhead  has  secured  the  name  of  the  "Key  City  of  the  Northwest,"  and  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  destined  to  become  a  place  of  considerable  impor- 
tance. The  adjoining  country  is  well  settled,  and  the  gradual  development  of 
manufactures  in  the  town  insures  a  continuance  of  that  steady  growth  which  has 
distinguished  it  in  the  past.  The  religious  and  educational  advantages  of  the 
city  are  very  good,  and  the  sociability  and  hospitality  of  its  citizens  make  a  visit 
to  Moorhead  exceedingly  pleasant.  These  qualities,  however,  are  characteristic 
of  the  people  of  the  entire  Northwest,  and  there  is,  moreover,  a  degree  of  refine- 
ment in  the  homes  of  the  more  substantial  settlers  for' which  the  visitor  is  quite 
unprepared.  But  we  must  hasten  along. 

Opposite  Moorhead,  on  the  Dakota  side  of  the  river,  stands  Fargo,  the  chief 
town  in  North  Dakota,  an  ambitious,  enterprising  place,  believing  strongly,  and 
not  without  reason,  that  its  destiny  is  to  be  a  great  city.  Its  history  dates  from 
1872;  but  so  lately  as  1877  it  had  but  a  handful  of  inhabitants,  and  these  have 
grown  to  10,000  or  more.  Miles  upon  miles  of  side-tracks,  upon  which  switch- 
ing is  going  on  all  day  long,  and  all  night  too;  warehouse  after  warehouse,  full 
of  costly  agricultural  machinery;  blocks  of  stores  that  would  be  deemed  impos- 
ing and  attractive  in  any  city  in  the  world;  elegant  and  commodious  churches 
and  other  public  buildings — all,  and  much  more  besides,  stamp  the  city  as  the 
metropolis  of  a  rich  district  and  the  home  and  mart  of  an  enterprising  people. 
While  Fargo  can  no  longer  be  said  to  be  a  frontier  town,  there  is  a  novelty,  and 
often  an  incongruity,  about  the  visitor's  experiences  which  might  lead  him  to 
suppose  that  he  had  reached  the  very  Ultima  Thule  of  civilization.  He  is 
rapidly  conveyed  from  one  point  to  another  in  luxurious  street  cars;  he  finds  the 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  13 

hotels,  stores,  warehouses  and  offices  connected  by  one  of  the  most  complete 
telephonic  systems  anywhere  to  be  found,  and  hardly  a  place  of  business  in  the 
city  without  the  electric  light;  and  then  he  goes  to  his  hotel  to  be  asked  by  the 
waitress  whether  he  will  take  roast  loin  of  buffalo  or  roast  saddle  of  black  bear ! 
It  would  appear  as  if  civilization  had  brought  up  all  her  forces,  that  her  onward 
march  might  be  the  more  rapid  and  irresistible. 

West  and  southwest  of  Fargo  stretch  the  famous 

Wheat  Fields  of  Dakota, 

which  are  of  such  vast  extent  that  one  might  almost  designate  this  portion  of  the 
Territory  the  granary  of  the  world.  Every  station  along  the  line,  as  we  go  west- 
ward, has  one  or  more  capacious  grain  elevators,  in  which  the  wealth  of  Dakota's 
fertile  fields  is  stored,  awaiting  transportation.  A  peculiarity  of  wheat  growing 
in  Dakota  is  the  grand  scale  upon  which  it  is  conducted.  Eighteen  miles 
west  of  Fargo,  and  292  miles  from  St.  Paul,  are  the  famous  bonanza  farms  of 
Mr.  Oliver  Dalrymple.  Here,  and  at  Casselton,  two  miles  west,  wheat  growing 
is  carried  on  upon  a  scale  so  gigantic  as  to  seem  almost  incredible  to  any  one 
familiar  only  with  the  methods  of  the  older  and  more  settled  States.  At  Dal- 
rymple there  are  27,000  acres  under  cultivation  ;  at  Casselton  20,000  acres  ;  at 
Grandin  28,000  acres,  all  forming  one  great  farm,  or  rather  combination  of  farms, 
under  the  same  management.  The  appearance  of  the  broad  expanse  of  prairie, 
so  level  that  the  light  on  the  electric  tower  at  Fargo  can  be  seen  at  a  distance  of 
fifty  miles,  varies  singularly  according  to  the  season  of  the  year.  In  winter  there 
is  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  vast,  snow-covered  plain,  perfectly  level,  stretching 
away  to  the  horizon,  and  undiversified,  save  here  and  there  by  a  farm  building 
and  the  scanty  growth  of  undersized  trees  fringing  the  Maple  and  Sheyenne 
rivers  ;  toward  the  middle  of  April,  the  field  of  snow  is  changed  to  one  of  black 
loam,  often  to  a  large  extent  under  water  ;  but  as  harvest  approaches,  the  scene 
is,  as  may  be  imagined,  a  striking  one,  as  impressive  as  it  is  beautiful.  Before 
harvest  operations  begin,  the  eye  may  rest  upon  an  illimitable  field  of  golden 
grain,  and  when  the  long  procession  of  reaping  machines  moves  out,  the  visitor, 
be  he  ever  so  unimpressionable,  can  not  but  be  profoundly  moved  as  he  sees  the 
ingathering  on  so  prodigious  a  scale  of  the  food  of  toiling  millions  in  the  great 
cities  of  the  world. 

Pursuing  our  way  westward,  we  remark  with  some  surprise  the  great  number 
of  "  cities  "  which  have  sprung  up  along  the  line  of  the  railroad,  all  with  a  pros- 
perous look,  and  many  with  substantial  business  blocks  and  elegant  churches 
and  school  houses,  giving  evidence  that  their  enterprising  settlers  have  confi- 
dence in  their  future.  Among  such  is  Valley  City,  on  the  Sheyenne  river,  the 
most  beautifully  situated  town  on  this  division  of  the  road,  and  the  capital  of  the 
prosperous  Barnes  county.  Passing  several  pretty  lakelets,  the  haunt  of 
innumerable  wild  fowl,  we  soon  find  ourselves  descending  into  the  valley  of  the 
James,  or  Dakota,  river,  the  longest  unnavigable  river  on  the  continent.  Here 
has  sprung  up  the  city  of  Jamestown,  the  county  seat  of  Stutsman  county,  and, 


(14) 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  15 

what  is  of  vastly  more  moment,  the  metropolis  of  an  important  section  of 
country.  It  is  picturesquely  located,  and  all  the  resources  of  civilization  are 
made  to  contribute  to  the  prosperity  and  happiness  of  its  inhabitants.  Along 
the  shores  o£  the  James  and  Sheyenne  rivers,  roamed  in  former  years  the  savage 
Sioux,  and  many  a  bloody  conflict  has  taken  place  within  sight  of  their  wooded 
slopes.  The  Indians,  however,  long  ago  retreated  before  the  advancing  stream 
of  immigration,  and  the  tourist  to-day  will  probably  have  to  journey  farther 
westward  before  he  will  see  a  single  "live  Injun."  The  idea  of 

Sea  Bathing  in  Northern  Dakota 

is  a  startling  one.  The  construction  of  the  Jamestown  &  Northern  Branch 
Railroad  has,  however,  brought  within  easy  reach  of  the  tourist  the  far-famed 
Devil's  Lake,  an  extensive  sheet  of  salt  water,  some  eighty  miles  north  of  the 
road  upon  which  we  are  traveling. 

The  country  through  which  the  Jamestown  &  Northern  Branch  passes,  is, 
in  its  general  features,  similar  to  that  to  which  the  tourist  has  become 
accustomed  since  he  crossed  the  Sheyenne  ;  namely,  a  broad  prairie  inter- 
sected by  the  narrow  valleys  of  several  streams,  and  occasionally  relieved  in  the 
monotony  of  its  landscape  by  ranges  of  low  hills.  Devil's  Lake,  Dakota's  inland 
ocean,  lies  midway  between  the  great  valleys  of  the  Red  and  Missouri  rivers, 
forty-five  miles  south  of  the  international  boundary.  Its  name  is  said  to  have 
originated  in  the  confounding  of  two  Indian  names  by  the  early  explorers.  The 
Indians  called  it  Minnewaukan  (spirit  water),  but  in  speaking  of  its  saline  prop- 
erties with  reference  to  drinking  purposes  they  used  a  word  signifying  bad. 
Hence  the  early  settlers  came  to  call  it  "Lake  of  the  Evil  Spirit,"  or  "Devil's 
Lake."  The  length  of  this  irregular  sheet  of  water,  following  all  its  windings, 
is  about  forty-five  miles,  and  its  width  varies  from  a  few  hundred  yards  at  La 
Rose's  Ferry  to  seven  miles  opposite  Fort  Totten.  The  water  is  salt,  closely 
resembling,  both  in  appearance  and  taste,  that  of  the  ocean.  Its  specific  gravity 
is  1.005.  Tne  shores  of  the  lake  are  exceedingly  picturesque,  extending  280 
miles  with  the  most  fantastic  irregularity.  They  are  well  wooded,  and,  sloping 
gracefully  to  the  water,  present  at  many  points  scenes  of  singular  beauty.  Abut- 
ting promontories  and  numerous  islands  add  greatly  to  the  picturesque  effect. 
Analysis  shows  that  the  water  of  Devil's  Lake  contains  sulphates  of  soda  and  of 
magnesia  (epsom  and  glauber  salts)  and  chlorides  of  soda  (common  salt)  and 
magnesia.  These  medicinal  properties,  in  conjunction  with  a  delightful  climate, 
will  attract  tourists  from  all  parts  of  the  world,  and  the  beautiful  Minnewaukan 
will  soon  be  not  less  famous  as  a  summer  resort  than  the  country  around  it  is 
for  productiveness.  The  climate  is  indeed  highly  salubrious,  the  air  being  dry 
and  the  temperature  equable. 

The  climate  of  North  Dakota  generally  is  cold  in  winter  and  warm  in  summer. 
There  is  scarcely  any  spring,  and  after  the  melting  of  the  snow,  vegetation  grows 
with  surprising  rapidity.  Autumn  is  the  most  agreeable  season,  but  the  hottest 


16  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

days  of  summer  are,  throughout  the  whole  of  this  Northwestern  country,  followed 
by  cool  and  refreshing  nights. 

Resuming  our  journey  at  Jamestown,  we  cross  presently  a  high  pleateau,  the 
Plateau  du  Coteau  de  Missouri,  a  vast  tract  of  country  but  little  cultivated.  It 
has,  however,  a  rich  soil,  and  will  soon  be  brought  under  the  plow.  As  the  day 
wears  on,  and  we  begin  to  wonder  how  far  we  are  from  Bismarck,  we  come  upon 
several  model  farms,  known,  respectively,  as  the  Steele,  Van  Deusen  and  McGill 
farms,  at  each  of  which  there  are  several  thousand  acres  under  cultivation. 

On  the  left  bank  of  the  Big  Muddy,  known  to  school  boys  and  poets  as  the 
mighty  Missouri,  stands  Bismarck,  the  capital  of  the  Territory,  named  in  honor 
of  the  great  German  statesman.  Though  this  city  had  long  commanded  an 
important  river  trade  with  various  settlements  away  to  the  northwest,  its  progress 
was  not  rapid,  nor  its  permanent  importance  at  all  assured,  until  it  was  fixed 
upon  as  the  new  capital  of  the  Territory.  Its  selection  as  such  gave  rise  to  a 
tremendous  boom,  real  estate  advancing  enormously  in  price,  and  lots  far  out  on 
the  prairie  changing  hands  at  astounding  figures.  Such,  however,  is  the  expe- 
rience at  one  time  or  another  of  nearly  all  these  Northwestern  cities.  At  Bismarck 
one  comes  in  contact  with  a  new  social  element.  If  navigation  is  open  on  the 
Missouri,  we  find  the  Sheridan — a  most  excellent  hotel,  by  the  way — full  of  river 
captains,  Indian  agents,  post  traders,  and  so  forth,  all  of  the  hail-fellow-well-met 
stamp,  courteous  and  entertaining.  It  may  be  noted  here,  that  while  hotel  ac- 
commodations of  superior  excellence  have,  in  these  pages,  been  specially  brought 
under  the  tourist's  notice,  there  are,  at  all  the  more  important  points  along  the 
Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  hotels  which  are  first  class  in  every  respect;  indeed, 
the  traveler  sometimes  wishes  that  his  journey  had  in  it  a  little  more  of  the  flavor 
of  romance.  To  get  that,  however,  he  needs  but  to  leave  the  great  transconti- 
nental highway  on  which  he  is  journeying — the  beaten  track  of  travel — and  he 
can  find  all  he  desires.  Should  he,  on  the  other  hand,  be  content  with  a  rapid 
glance  at  this  great  country,  he  need  not  leave  the  train  at  all;  for  the  luxurious 
sleeping  cars,  and  the  excellently  appointed  dining  cars  which  run  on  every  train, 
will  afford  him  accommodations  unsurpassed  by  those  of  any  hotel  in  the  coun- 
try. Bismarck  itself  has  no  particular  attractions,  but  from  the  bluffs  imme- 
diately behind  it  very  extensive  and  pleasing  views  of  the  country  are  obtained. 
Across  the  river  is  Fort  Lincoln,  while  a  few  hours'  sail  in  one  of  the  fine  steam- 
boats that  ply  on  the  Missouri  will  bring  us  to  one  of  those  numerous  reserva- 
tions in  which  the  warlike  Sioux  are  held  in  check.  Bismarck  is  an  excellent 
point  for  the  purchasing  of  outfits  and  the  securing  of  guides  by  those  who  con- 
template hunting  excursions. 

The  railroad  crosses  the  Missouri  river  by  a  magnificent  bridge,  opened  for 
traffic  on  the  first  of  October,  1882.  Prior  to  that  time  the  cars  were  conveyed 
from  shore  to  shore  by  a  large  transfer  boat,  specially  constructed  for  that  pur- 
pose. So  uncertain,  however,  is  the  channel  of  the  river,  owing  to  the  rapid 
current  and  the  constantly  shifting  sand  bars,  that  this  mode  of  conveyance  was 
extremely  tedious,  and  it  was  found  impossible  to  run  trains  with  the  regularity 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  17 

expected  of  so  important  a  railroad.  The  bridge  proper  consists  of  three  spans, 
each  of  400  feet,  and  two  approach  spans,  each  113  feet,  with  a  long  stretch  of 
substantial  trestle  work.  The  entire  cost  of  the  structure  was  about  $1,000,000. 
The  great  river,  though  3,500  miles  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  is  at  this  point 
2,800  feet  in  breadth,  and,  with  its  tributaries,  has  2,000  miles  of  navigable 
waters  above  it  to  the  north  and  west. 

The  country  through  which  the  traveler  passes  after  crossing  the  Missouri  is 
much  more  diversified  than  that  in  the  eastern  half  of  the  Territory.  The  Heart, 
Knife  and  Sweet  Briar  valleys  have  attracted  numerous  settlers  by  the  fertility  of 
their  soil,  as  evinced  by  the  abundance  of  their  nutritious  grasses,  and  they  are 
rapidly  being  brought  under  cultivation.  Before,  however,  proceeding  farther 
on  our  journey,  mention  must  be  made  of  Mandan,  a  town  on  the  western  bank 
of  the  river,  and  the  county  seat  of  Morton  county.  Of  all  the  towns  we  have 
yet  reached,  this  is  the  one  of  most  recent  growth.  It  is  but  a  few  years  since 


MAMMOTH  HOT  SPRINGS  HOTEL— YELLOWSTONE  NATIONAL  PARK. 

it  was  in  the  occupation  of  the  Indians,  and  was  the  scene  of  a  bloody  engage- 
ment between  two  contending  tribes.  But  now  it  has  substantial  brick  business 
blocks,  several  churches,  good  schools,  and  a  fine  railroad  depot ;  and  there  are 
also  a  round-house  and  extensive  machine  shops,  Mandan  being  the  eastern  and 
western  terminus,  respectively,  of  the  Missouri  and  Dakota  divisions  of  the  road. 
It  has  a  conveniently  situated  and  admirably  equipped  hotel,  capable  of  accom- 
modating a  large  number  of  guests.  Mandan  has  not  yet  overtaken  Bismarck 
as  a  commercial  centre,  nor  in  respect  to  population,  but  its  residents  predict  for 
it  a  great  future.  That  a  large  town  will  grow  up  where  this  transcontinental 
highway  crosses  the  Missouri  is  almost  certain,  and  it  is  worthy  of  note  in  this 
connection,  that  most  of  the  great  river  cities  of  the  continent  are  on  the  west 
bank  of  the  stream  to  which,  in  conjunction  with  the  railroads,  they  owe  their 
importance.  Where  it  is  otherwise,  the  reason  is  obvious. 

As  we  approach  the  western  boundary  of  the  Territory,  the  natural  features 
of  the  country  become  entirely  changed,  and  we  enter  a  region  of  paramount 
interest  to  the  student  of  nature,  the  tourist  and  the  sight-seer.  This  is  the  far- 

2  » 


18  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

famed  Pyramid  Park,  better  known  by  its  old  name  of  the  "  Bad  Lands," 
although  that  appellation  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  a  misnomer.  It  is  impossible  to 
convey  in  words  an  adequate  description  of  this  extraordinary  country  ;  and  even 
the  resources  of  the  photographer,  be  he  ever  so  skillful,  fail  as  utterly  as  those 
of  the  word-painter.  The  train  travels  through  it  at  full  speed  for  nearly  an 
hour,  but  if  the  traveler  desires  to  make  a  closer  examination  of  its  wonders,  he 
leaves  the  train  at  Little  Missouri  station,  where  the  line  crosses  the  Little 
Missouri  river.  He  will  there  find  guides,  and  every  facility  for  a  visit  to  Cedar 
Canon,  and  also  to  the  Burning  Mine,  where  he  will  see  still  in  operation  that 
mighty  agency  which  has  wrought  out  during  countless  ages  the  marvelous 
picture  spread  out  before  him.  Writing  of  the  scene  which  presents  itself  to 
the  eye  of  the  almost  bewildered  spectator,  as  he  gazes  upon  the  marvelous 
diversity  of  outline  and  the  infinite  variety  and  startling  contrasts  of  color,  that 
accomplished  writer,  Mr.  E.  V.  Smalley,  says  : 

"  The  change  in  the  scene  is  so  startling,  and  the  appearance  of  the  landscape 
so  wholly  novel  and  so  singularly  grotesque,  that  you  rub  your  eyes  to  make 
sure  that  you  are  not  dreaming  of  some  ancient  geologic  epoch,  when  the  rude, 
unfinished  earth  was  the  sport  of  Tkanic  forces,  or  fancying  yourself  transported 
to  another  planet.  Enormous  masses  of  conglomerate — red,  gray,  black,  brown, 
and  blue,  in  towers,  pyramids,  peaks,  ridges,  domes,  castellated  heights — occupy 
the  face  of  the  country.  In  the  spaces  between  are  grassy,  lawn-like  expanses, 
dotted  with  the  petrified  stumps  of  huge  trees.  The  finest  effect  of  color  is 
produced  by  the  dark  red  rock — not  rock  in  fact,  but  actual  terra-cotta,  baked 
by  the  heat  of  underlying  layers  of  lignite.  At  some  points  the  coal  is  still  on 
fire,  and  the  process  of  transforming  mountains  of  blue  clay  into  mountains  of 
pottery  may  be  observed  from  day  to  day.  It  has  been  going  on  for  countless 
ages,  no  doubt.  To  bake  one  of  these  colossal  masses  may  have  required  10,000 
years  of  smoldering  heat.  I  despair  of  giving  any  adequate  idea  of  the  fantastic 
forms  of  the  buttes  or  of  the  wonderful  effects  of  color  they  offer.  The  pen 
and  brush  of  a  skillful  artist  would  alone  be  competent  for  the  task.  The  pho- 
tographer, be  he  never  so  deft  with  his  camera  and  chemicals,  only  belittles  these 
marvelous  views.  He  catches  only  bare  outlines,  without  color?  and  color  is  the 
chief  thing  in  the  picture.  He  can  not  get  the  true  effect  of  distance,  and  his 
negatives  show  only  staring  blacks  and  whites  in  place  of  the  infinite  variations 
of  light  and  shadow  effects  in  valleys  and  gorges  and  hollows,  and  upon  crags 
and  pinnacles.  Look,  if  you  can,  by  the  feeble  aid  of  written  words,  upon  a 
single  butte,  and  see  how  impossible  it  is  to  photograph  it  satisfactorily.  It  rises 
from  a  carpet  of  green  grass.  Its  base  has  a  bluish  hue,  and  appears  to  be  clay 
solidified  by  enormous  pressure.  It  is  girdled  by  bands  of  light  gray  stone  and 
black  lignite  coal.  Its  upper  portion  is  of  the  rich  red  color  of  old  Egyptian 
pottery.  Crumbled  fragments  strew  its  sides.  Its  summit,  rising  300  feet  above 
the  plain,  has  been  carved  by  the  elements  into  turrets,  battlements,  sharp  spires, 
grotesque  gargoyles,  and  huge  projecting  buttresses  —  an  amazing  jumble  of 
weird  architectural'  effects,  that  startle  the  eye  with  suggestions  of  intelligent 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  19 

design.  Above,  the  sky  is  wonderfully  clear  and  blue,  the  rays  of  the  setting 
sun  spread  a  rosy  tint  over  the  crest,  and  just  above  its  highest  tower  floats  a 
little  flame-colored  cloud  like  a  banner.  When  I  say  there  are  thousands  of  these 
buttes,  the  reader  will  perceive  that  the  Bad  Lands  of  the  Little  Missouri  are  a 
region  of  extraordinary  interest  to  the  tourist  and  artist." 

It  should  be  added  that  this  is  a  great  hunting  ground,  and  that  reasonably 
good  hotel  accommodations  can  be  found  for  lovers  of  the  chase  making  their 
headquarters  at  Little  Missouri  station.  The  Marquis  de  Mores,  a  wealthy 
young  French  nobleman,  has  taken  up  his  residence  here,  and  done  much  to 
encourage  the  grazing  industry,  for  which  the  country  is  eminently  adapted.  He 
has  recently  erected  extensive  abattoirs  at  Medora,  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Little 
Missouri. 

Once  more  resuming  our  seats  in  the  train,  we  travel  onward  toward 

"  That  desolate  land  and  lone 
Where  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone 
Roar  down  their  mountain  path." 

Shortly  after  passing  Sentinel  Butte,  a  lofty  peak  rising  precipitously  from 
the  plain  on  the  south  side  of  the  railroad,  we  cross  the  Montana  boundary,  at 
the  highest  point  (2,840  feet)  above  sea  level  we  have  so  far  attained;  and  a 
further  run  of  some  fifty  miles  brings  us  to  the  Yellowstone  valley.  The  ante- 
lope, buffalo  and  elk,  which  have  occasionally  been  seen  since  we  crossed  the 
Missouri  river,  bounding  away  before  the  thundering  locomotive  and  its  train  of 
cars,  now  appear  in  greater  numbers;  and  either  from  the  windows  or  platforms 
of  the  moving  train  we  may  test  the  accuracy  of  our  aim  and  the  range  of  our 
six-shooters  by  firing  at  the  retreating  herd.  This  is  often  done,  for  there  are 
still  travelers  who  can  not  disabuse  themselves  of  the  altogether  mistaken  notion 
that  it  is  necessary  for  them  to  go  armed. 

The  Yellowstone  river,  the  most  important  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Missouri, 
is  a  stream  of  considerable  magnitude,  navigable  for  300  miles.  Glendive,  on  its 
right  bank,  690  miles  from  St.  Paul,  is  the  first  Montana  town  we  reach,  and  from 
this  point  westward  the  railroad  follows,  more  or  less  closely,  for  340  miles,  the 
windings  of  the  river.  Glendive  is  an  important  trading  point,  both  in  regard  to 
shipping  buffalo  hides  and  whatever  other  produce  the  surrounding  country 
yields,  and  as  a  distributing  point  for  the  necessaries  of  life.  The  construction 
of  the  railroad  for  many  miles  west,  or  rather  southwest,  presented  great  difficul- 
ties, on  account  of  the  constant  disintegration  of  the  rocks  and  the  consequent 
precipitation  on  to  the  track  of  masses  of  earth  and  stone.  The  scenery  is  more 
or  less  picturesque,  and  not  infrequently  imposing,  for  the  entire  length  of  the 
valley.  A  few  hours'  ride,  in  the  course  of  which  we  cross  numerous  tributaries 
of  the  Yellowstone,  the  most  important  of  which  is  Powder  river,  brings  us  to 
Miles  City,  one  of  the  best  points  in  the  valley  at  which  to  make  a  stay.  It  is 
beautifully  situated  at  the  confluence  of  the  Tongue  and  Yellowstone  rivers,  is 
an  important  entrepot,  shipping  and  distributing  point,  and  presents  various 
features  of  interest  with  which  the  traveler  has  not  before  become  acquainted. ' 


YELLOWSTONE  RIVER— NATIONAL  PABK. 


(20) 


TO    THE   PACIFIC  COAST.  21 

A  vast  area  of  rich  grazing  country,  extending  200  miles  southward  into  the 
Territory  of  Wyoming,  as  well  as  northward  to  the  Missouri  river,  is  tributary  to 
this  point,  and  also  draws  its  supplies  hence.  The  last  two  years  have  witnessed 
an  enormous  development  of  the  grazing  interest  in  the  valleys  of  the  Yellowstone 
and  its  tributaries,  and  large  shipments  of  cattle,  to  Chicago  and  other  Eastern 
cities,  are  made  almost  daily  during  the  season.  This  is  also  the  centre  of  the 
greatest  buffalo-hunting  country  in  the  world,  as  many  as  a  quarter  of  a  million 
hides  having  been  sent  East  from  this  city  in  a  single  year.  In  the  early  summer, 
when  the  snow  is  melting  on  the  Big  Horn  Mountains,  the  Yellowstone  is  navi- 
gable 150  miles  above  Miles  City,  and  for  a  short  time  an  active  river  trade  is 
carried  on;  but  that  trade,  like  that  of  the  Upper  Missouri,  is  so  precarious, 
owing  to  the  continual  shifting  of  the  channel,  that,  with  the  opening  of  the  rail- 
road, it  will  probably  soon  die  out.  An  almost  every-day  occurrence  here  during 
the  season,  is  the  arrival  of  freighters,  with  buffalo  hides  and  tongues,  deer  skins, 
and  other  spoils  of  the  chase.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  see  long  trains  of 
wagons  enter  the  city,  each  wagon  drawn  by  from  five  to  ten  yoke  of  oxen.  In 
this  thriving  little  community  of  from  2,000  to  3,000  souls,  there  is  scarcely  an 
important  race  not  represented.  The  tourist  is  not  likely  ever  to  forget  the 
feelings  with  which  he  first  walks  the  streets  of  Miles  City:  Indians,  Chinamen, 
negroes;  hunters  and  cow  boys,  in  their  deerskin  shirts,  leather  breeches  and 
slouched  hats,  with  six-shooters  and  bowie-knives  glistening  in  their  belts,  make 
up  a  motley  crowd.  The  doors  of  the  gambling  saloons  stand  open  day  and 
night,  and  the  character  of  their  habitues  is  such  as  to  make  them  well  worthy  of 
a  visit.  Another  interesting  feature  with  which  the  traveler  first  meets  at  this 
point,  is  the  method  of  ferrying  which  obtains  in  this  country  of  rapid  streams, 
a  flat-bottomed  boat  being  run  along  a  cable  stretched  at  an  oblique  angle  from 
shore  to  shore,  with  the  current  for  a  motive  power. 

Some  miles  south  of  Miles  City,  but  apparently  only  a  few  minutes'  walk- — 
such  is  the  transparency  of  the  atmosphere — stands  Signal  Butte,  a  lofty 
peak  of  great  interest,  well  deserving  a  visit,  not  less  for  the  sake  of  the  magnifi- 
cent prospect  that  may  be  obtained  from  its  summit,  than  for  the  geological 
specimens  with  which  its  slopes  abound. 

Two  miles  beyond  Miles  City  is  Fort  Keogh,  the  largest  and  one  of  the  most 
beautifully  situated  military  stations  in  the  United  States.  It  was  established 
eight  years  ago  by  Gen.  Nelson  A.  Miles.  The  country  was  then  full  of  the  war- 
like Sioux  ;  but  upon  the  surrender  of  their  great  chief,  Sitting  Bull,  they  allowed 
themselves  to  be  transported  to  reservations  on  the  Missouri  river,  where  they  are 
virtually  prisoners  of -war.  The  Indians  now  located  in  Eastern  Montana  belong, 
with  few  exceptions,  to  the  Cheyenne  tribe.  While  retaining  their  picturesque 
costume,  they  follow  agricultural  and  industrial  pursuits,  and  are  independent  of 
government  aid. 

Proceeding  up  the  valley,  we  cross  the  turbulent  waters  of  the  Big  Horn  river 
by  a  bridge  600  feet  in  length,  and  presently  enter  the  Big  Horn  tunnel,  the  first 
tunnel  through  which  we  pass  on  our  westward  journey.  Custer,  a  few  miles 


22  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

beyond,  is  the  best  point  from  which  to  reach  the  famous  Maginnis  mines,  100 
miles  to  the  northwest.  Another  hour's  ride  and  we  come  to  Pompey's  Pillar, 
a  mass  of  yellow  sandstone  rising  abruptly  to  a  considerable  height.  About  half 
way  up  there  is  carved  on  the  sandstone  the  name  of  the  veteran  pioneer, 
William  Clarke,  who  visited  this  spot  July  25,  1806,  and  has  left  a  graphic 
description  of  the  country  as  he  saw  it. 

The  Yellowstone  river  constitutes  for  a  considerable  distance  the  northern 
boundary  of  the  reservation  of  the  Crow  Indians,  said  to  be  the  richest  nation 
in  the  world,  in  proportion  to  their  numbers,  their  wealth  aggregating  $3,500  per 
head.  The  Crows  have  long  been  friendly  to  the  whites,  and  readily  negotiated 
the  sale  of  the  land  required  for  the  construction  of  the  railroad. 

The  city  of  Billings,  the  next  important  town  we  reach,  is  915  miles  from  St. 
Paul,  and  225  from  Glendive,  where  the  train  entered  the  Yellowstone  valley.  It 
is  near  this  city  that  we  first  catch  sight  of  snow-clad  mountains,  the  immense, 
dazzling  range  of  the  Big  Snow  Mountains  looming  up  grandly  before  us.  At 
the  beginning  of  June,  1882,  this  town  consisted  of  fifty-one  houses  and  forty- 
seven  tents,  and  was  considered  the  "  hardest "  place  in  the  entire  Northwest ; 
to-day  it  has  its  hotels,  churches,  schools,  and  other  public  buildings,  and  an 
orderly  and  well-to-do  population  of  something  like  3,000. 

Ninety-five  miles  farther  west  is  Springdale,  where  we  leave  the  train  for 
Hunter's  Hot  Springs.  These  springs,  which  are  of  great  repute  for  their  medici- 
nal properties,  are  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  Crazy  Mountains,  one  and  three- 
fourths  miles  north  of  the  Yellowstone  river.  They  have  been  celebrated  for 
their  healing  virtues  from  time  immemorial,  having  been  resorted  to  by  Indians 
from  far  and  near.  Dr.  Hunter,  the  proprietor,  was  the  first  white  man  to  visit 
them.  That  was  in  1864.  For  the  last  fourteen  years  Dr.  Hunter  and  his  family 
have  resided  at  the  springs,  which  are  now  identified  with  his  name.  The  water, 
the  chief  chemical  ingredient  of  which  is  sulphur,  is  discharged  at  the  rate  of 
2,000  gallons  per  minute,  its  temperature  being  from  ^48°  to  168°  Fahrenheit. 
The  scenery  around  is  very  beautiful,  and  the  springs  are  rapidly  becoming  a 
popular  resort.  The  climate  is  highly  salubrious,  the  cold  of  winter  being  mod- 
erated by  the  Japan  current,  known  as  the  Chinook  wind,  which  blows  across  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  and  so  far  modifies  the  climate  of  the  far  Northwest  that  the 
isothermal  line  of  50°  Fahr.,  which  passes  through  Cleveland  and  Chicago,  runs 
away  north  into  Montana,  and  even  into  the  British  Possessions. 

We  are  now  within  twenty  miles  of  Livingston,  the  gateway  to  the  National 
Park.  A  run  of  an  hour  brings  us  to  that  city.  Here  we  are  1,030  miles  from 
St.  Paul ;  we  have  crossed  the  meridian  of  110°  W.,  and  are  at  an  altitude  of 
4,450  feet  above  mean  sea  level.  Livingston  is  situated  on  the  west  bank  of  the 
Yellowstone,  just  at  the  point  where  the  river  gushes  forth  from  the  lower  canon. 
It  is  built  on  a  beautiful  plain  ;  and  beyond  the  river  stretches  a  broad  plateau, 
with  magnificent  mountains  in  the  background.  Its  chief  interest  for  the  tourist 
lies,  however,  in  the  fact  that  it  is  here  that  he  changes  cars  for  the 


FALLS  OF  THE  GIBBON  RIVER— NATIONAL  PARK. 


(23) 


24  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

Yellowstone   National  Park, 

that  sublimest  of  natural  wonders,  toward  which  he  is  hastening  with  eager 
expectation,  impatient  of  delay. 

This  marvelous  creation  of  the  Supreme  Builder  of  the  Universe,  incompar- 
ably grand  and  absolutely  unique,  is  the  Mecca  of  our  pilgrimage. 

Since  it  was  rendered  accessible  by  the  opening  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Rail- 
road, and  provision  was  made  for  the  comfortable  accommodation  of  travelers, 
and  for  their  conveniently  visiting  the  various  objects  of  interest,  its  fame  has 
traveled  far  and  wide,  and  the  question  :  "  How  may  the  wonders  of  the  Yellow- 
stone National  Park  be  reached?"  is  now  being  asked  all  over  the  civilized 
world.  To  answer  that  inquiry,  so  far  as  it  has  not  been  answered  in  the  pre- 
ceding pages,  is  our  first  duty.  Briefly  and  positively  the  answer  may  be  given  : 
Practically  there  is  but  one  route.  The  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  remains,  and 
probably  will  remain,  the  only  direct  and  all-rail  route  to  the  Park.  Its  main  line 
running  through  Livingston,  but  fifty-one  miles  from  the  Park  boundary,  it  has 
constructed  a  standard-gauge  branch  right  to  the  Park  itself,  terminating  at  Cin- 
nabar, six  miles  only  from  the  great  hotel,  which  is,  and  must  continue  to  be,  the 
most  advantageous  point  for  the  headquarters  of  visitors. 

The  entire  trip  from  Livingston  to  Cinnabar  is  made  through  the  upper 
valley  of  the  Yellowstone  river,  with  ever-varying  views  of  mountain,  woodland, 
and  well-cultivated  farms.  Five  minutes  after  leaving  the  railroad  station  a 
grand  scene  presents  itself  to  the  eye.  This  is  the  first  canon  of  the  majestic 
river,  and  picturesque  groups  of  towering  rocks,  varied  by  beautiful  areas  of 
forest  trees,  claim  wondering  admiration.  Soon  the  grim  walls  of  the  canon  are 
passed,  and  the  broad  and  fertile  valley  of  the  Yellowstone  unfolds  as  a  pano- 
rama its  charming  features  of  farmstead  and  of  wood-clad  islands,  the  latter 
reflecting  their  foliage  in  the  silver  flood,  whose  rushing  waters  fall  upon  the  ear 
in  deep  crescendo  tones.  To  these  charms  must  be  £dded  those  afforded  by 
watching  the  animal  life  of  the  country.  Eagles  and  other  birds  of  prey  hover 
in  the  air;  glimpses  of  startled  antelope  and  elk  are  caught  on  the  mountain 
crags,  while  myriads  of  wild  geese  and  ducks  haunt  the  feeding  grounds  on  the 
margin  of  the  river. 

At  Cinnabar,  the  southern  terminus  of  the  National  Park  Branch,  a  line  of 
Concord  coaches  and  light  spring  wagons  connects  with  all  passenger  trains, 
conveying  passengers  without  delay  to  Mammoth  Hot  Springs  (Yellowstone 
National  Park  Hotel),  distant  about  six  miles.  The  tourist  is  now  on  the 
enchanted  ground  known  throughout  the  civilized  world  as  the  Yellowstone 
National  Park,  which  the  Congress  of  the  United  States  has  "  dedicated  and 
set  apart  as  a  public  park,  or  pleasure  ground,  for  the  benefit  and  enjoyment  of 
the  people." 

A  distinguished  writer,  speaking  of  the  country  embraced  in  the  Park,  says  : 
"  It  is  a  region  of  wonder,  terror  and  delight.  Nature  puts  forth  all  her  powers, 
and  her  moods  are  ever  changing  from  'grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe.' 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  25 

Here  tremendous  geysers  shoot  up  their  mighty  fountains,  causing  the  earth  to 
groan  and  tremble  by  their  violence;  countless  hot  springs,  indescribable  in  their 
strange  beauty,  show  depths  as  translucent  as  the  ambient  air;  pools  of  seething 
mud,  casting  up  jets  of  colored  paste,  bewilder  by  their  curious  activity.  And, 
as  if  these  were  not  sufficient,  here,  too,  is  to  be  seen  the  most  varied  and  lavish 
display  of  picturesque  scenery.  The  Park  unfolds  a  succession  of  pictures,  each 
more  striking  than  the  other.  There  are  serried,  snow-mantled  mountains,  pro- 
found canons,  mighty  cataracts,  verdant  valleys,  beautiful  woods,  sylvan  streams, 
foaming  cascades,  and  mirror-like  lakes." 

Location. 

The  Yellowstone  National  Park  lies  partly  in  the  Territory  of  Wyoming  and 
partly  in  that  of  Montana.  It  is  sixty-five  miles  north  and  south,  by  fifty-five 
miles  east  and  west;  comprises  3,575  square  miles,  and  is,  throughout  its  entire 
extent,  6,000  feet,  or  more,  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Yellowstone  Lake  has  an 
altitude  of  7,788  feet,  while  the  mountain  ranges  that  hem  in  the  valleys  on  every 
side  rise  to  the  height  of  10,000  and  12,000  feet,  and  are  covered  with  perpetual 
snow.  The  entire  region  was,  at  a  comparatively  recent  geological  period,  the 
scene  of  remarkable  volcanic  activity,  the  last  stages  of  which  are  still  visible  in 
the  hot  springs  and  geysers.  In  the  number  and  magnitude  of  these,  the  Park 
surpasses  all  the  rest  of  the  world.  There  are  probably  fifty  geysers  throwing 
columns  of  water  to  the  height  of  from  50  to  200  feet,  and  from  5,000  to  10,000 
springs,  depositing  either  lime  or  silica.  There  is  every  variety  of  beautiful  color, 
and  the  deposits  form  around  their  borders  the  most  elaborate  ornamentation. 
The  temperature  of  the  calcareous  springs  is  from  160°  to  170°,  that  of 
the  others  200°  or  more.  The  principal  collections  are  the  Upper  and  Lower 
Geyser  Basins  of  the  Madison  river  and  the  calcareous  springs  of  the  Gardiner 
river.  The  Park  is  also  one  of  the  most  interesting  geographical  localities  in 
North  America,  having  within  its  limits  or  in  its  vicinity  the  sources  of  several 
of  the  greatest  rivers  of  the  continent.  On  the  north  are  those  of  the  Yellow- 
stone; on  the  west  those  of  the  principal  forks  of  the  Missouri;  on  the  southwest 
and  south  those  of  Snake  river,  flowing  into  the  Columbia  and  through  it  into  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  and  those  of  Green  river,  a  branch  of  the  great  Colorado,  which 
empties  into  the  Gulf  of  California. 

Geysers. 

Of  the  many  wonderful  things  to  be  seen  in  the  Park,  the  most  wonderful  of 
all  are  the  GEYSERS,  of  which  there  is  the  grandest  collection  known  to  exist  in 
the  world.  They  are  very  active  and  powerful,  each  one  having  regular  eruptions 
of  from  five  to  fifteen  minutes'  duration,  when  columns  of  boiling  water  are 
thrown  from  100  to  300  feet  high,  and  countless  rocks  of  enormous  weight  hurled 
like  rockets  high  above  the  columns  of  water,  accompanied  by  an  earth-trem- 
bling which  is  terrific.  The  largest  and  principal  geysers  have  been  named  as 
follows  : 


26  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

"Old  Faithful,"  which  regularly  every  hour  sends  its  streams  of  boiling  water 
200  feet  upward,  the  spectacle  continuing  from  three  to  five  minutes.  When  the 
action  ceases,  the  water  recedes  out  of  sight,  and  nothing  but  the  occasional  hiss 
of  steam  is  heard  until  the  time  approaches  for  another  eruption. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  river  is  the  "Bee  Hive"  geyser,  which  once  in 
twenty-four  hours  throws  a  column  of  water,  three  feet  in  diameter,  to  a  height 
of  from  100  to  220  feet. 

Next,  one  comes  up  to  the  "Giantess,"  which,  however,  only  once  in  four- 
teen days  shows  her  power.  She  then  shoots  up  a  stream  250  feet  into  the  airr 
with  strong  eruption,  lasting  twenty  minutes,  and  heard  at  a  great  distance. 
From  here  one  visits  the  "Lion,"  the  "Lioness"  and  her  two  cubs,  the  "Saw 
Mill,"  the  "Grand,"  the  "Comet,"  the  "Giant,"  the  "Grotto,"  the  "Splendid," 
and  the  "Castle"  geysers,  with  others  of  smaller  size.  Of  the  last-named  group 
the  "Giant"  and  the  "Grand"  are  the  mightiest,  throwing  streams  to  a  height 
of  200  feet,  the  former  playing  an  hour,  and  the  latter  twenty  minutes,  each  with 
strong  ebullitions.  The  craters  of  these  geysers  differ  considerably  in  form. 
Many  are  even  with  the  ground,  and  have  either  narrower  or  wider  throats. 
Others  have  elevated  craters,  which  in  numerous  instances  exhibit  the  most 
peculiar  shapes;  as,  for  instance,  the  "Castle,"  which  bears  a  striking  similarity 
to  a  ruined  stronghold,  while  that  of  the  "Grotto"  resembles  a  hermit's  cell.  In 
addition  to  these  geysers,  hot  sulphur  springs  are  here  in  large  numbers,  exhib- 
iting their  beautiful  play  of  colors,  as  well  as  their  wonderful  work  of  varied 
crystallizations.  One  sees  here,  indeed,  the  waters  in  constant  play  in  every 
stage,  from  boiling  and  seething  to  eruption  in  great  columns  of  250  feet  in 
height,  which  appear  as  perfect  fountains,  while  the  effect  is  vastly  enhanced  by 
the  clouds  of  hot  vapor  which  float  upward  far  beyond  the  jets  of  water.  This 
unique  demonstration  of  nature's  power  in  the  Geyser  Basin  has  lent  to  the 
National  Park  the  appropriate  name  of  "Wonderland,"  which  it  well  deserves. 
For,  although  similar  works  of  nature  may  be  found  elsewhere,  yet  in  no  other 
land  does  such  an  assemblage  of  geysers  exist,  nor  are  they  likely  to  be  repro- 
duced. The  landscape  from  this  Geyser  Park  offers  a  beautiful  view  of  high, 
wood-clad  mountain  chains,  in  which  rugged  rock-groups  are  often  visible.  The 
Firehole  river  also  presents  its  novelties  in  the  way  of  hot  and  cold  water  flowing 
in  many  places  in  close  proximity.  Especially  is  this  instanced  at  the  crossing 
of  the  stream  where  the  road  leaves  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin  for  the  Middle 
Basin.  Here  the  "  Riverside  "  geyser  rears  itself  directly  from  the  bank,  and 
mingles  its  boiling  water  with  that  of  the  river. 

The  way  to  the  Middle  Geyser  Basin  is  through  beautiful  woods,  showing 
snatches  of  mountain  scenery,  and  passing  numerous  hot  springs  of  the  same 
character  as  those  already  named. 

Finally,  the  largest  geyser  which  exists  in  this  land  of  wonders  is  reached. 
This  is  the  celebrated  "Excelsior."  The  eruption  of  this  geyser  is  at  irregular 
intervals,  and  it  is  difficult  to  know  when  it  will  happen.  But  whoever  has  the 
good  fortune  to  witness  "  Excelsior"  in  activity  will  certainly  marvel  at  its  terri- 


VIEWS  OF  "OLD  FAITHFUL''  GEYSER.    See  page  26. 
(27) 


28  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

ble  power,  for  its  column  of  water,  varying  from  no  less  than  sixty  to  seventy- 
five  feet  in  diameter,  is  sent  300  feet  into  the  air  ! 

One  of  the  wonders  of  the  Park  is  the  Grand  Canon,  whose  perpendicular 
sides,  from  200  to  500  yards  apart,  rise  to  the  height  of  1,500  to  2,000  feet. 

Professor  F.  V.  Hayden,  in  his  report  to  Congress  on  the  explorations  which 
he  conducted,  to  which  we  are  indebted  for  nearly  all  the  authentic  knowledge 
we  have  of  the  Yellowstone  region,  says:  "No  language  can  do  justice  to  the 
wonderful  grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  canon  below  the  lower  falls,  the  very 
nearly  vertical  walls  slightly  sloping  down  to  the  water's  edge  on  either  side,  so 
that  from  the  summit  the  river  appears  like  a  thread  of  silver  foaming  over  its 
rocky  bottom  ;  the  variegated  colors  of  the  sides — yellow,  red,  brown,  white — all 
intermixed  and  shading  into  each  other  ;  the  Gothic  columns  of  every  form  stand- 
ing out  from  the  sides  of  the  walls  with  greater  variety  and  more  striking  colors 
than  ever  adorned  a  work  of  human  art.  The  margins  of  the  canon  on  either 
side  are  beautifully  fringed  with  pines.  *  *  *  The  decomposition  and  the 
colors  of  the  rocks  must  have  been  due  largely  to  hot  water  from  the  springs, 
which  has  percolated  all  through,  giving  to  them  their  present  variegated  and 
unique  appearance.  Standing  near  the  margin  of  the  lower  falls,  and  looking 
down  the  canon,  which  looks  like  an  immense  chasm  or  cleft  in  the  basalt,  with 
its  sides,  1,500  to  1,800  feet  high,  and  decorated  with  the  most  brilliant  colors 
that  the  human  eye  ever  saw,  with  the  rocks  weathered  into  an  almost  unlimited 
variety  of  forms,  with  here  and  there  a  pine  sending  its  roots  into  the  clefts  on 
the  sides,  as  if  struggling  with  a  sort  of  uncertain  success  to  maintain  an  exist- 
ence— the  whole  presents  a  picture  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  surpass  in  nature. 
Mr.  Thomas  Moran,  a  celebrated  artist,  and  noted  for  his  skill  as  a  colorist, 
exclaimed,  with  a  kind  of  regretful  enthusiasm,  that  these  beautiful  tints  were 
beyond  the  reach  of  human  art.  It  is  not  the  depth  alone  that  gives  such  an 
impression  of  grandeur  to  the  mind,  but  it  is  also  the  picturesque  forms  and  col- 
oring. After  the  waters  of  the  Yellowstone  roll  over  the  upper  descent,  they 
flow  with  great  rapidity  over  the  apparently  flat,  rocky  bottom,  which  spreads  out 
to  nearly  double  its  width  above  the  falls,  and  continues  thus  until  near  the  lower 
falls,  when  the  channel  again  contracts,  and  the  waters  seem,  as  it  were,  to  gather 
themselves  into  one  compact  mass,  and  plunge  over  the  descent  of  350  feet  in 
detached  drops  of  foam  as  white  as  snow,  some  of  the  larger  globules  of  water 
shooting  down  like  the  contents  of  an  exploded  rocket.  It  is  a  sight  far  more 
beautiful  than,  though  not  so  grand  or  impressive  as,  that  of  Niagara  Falls.  A 
heavy  mist  always  rises  from  the  water  at  the  foot  of  the  falls,  so  dense  that  one 
can  not  approach  within  200  or  300  feet,  and  even  then  the  clothes  will  be  drenched 
in  a  few  moments.  Upon  the  yellow,  nearly  vertical  wall  of  the  west  side,  the 
mist  mostly  falls  ;  and  for  300  feet  from  the  bottom  the  wall  is  covered  with  a 
thick  matting  of  mosses,  sedges,  grasses,  and  other  vegetation  of  the  most  vivid 
green,  which  have  sent  their  small  roots  into  the  softened  rocks,  and  are  nourished 
by  the  ever-ascending  spray." 

Now,  glance  at  the  map  of  the  National  Park  :  find  Mount  Washburn — the 


TO    THE   PACIFIC  COAST.  29 

"  Pisgah  "  of  that  land — situated  midway  between  the  northern  boundary  of  the 
Yellowstone  Lake  and  the  northern  boundary  of  the  Park.  No  tourist  should 
fail  in  securing  this  enchanting  view  ;  while  to  the  scientist,  the  artist  or  the  poet, 
and  to  the  worn  and  weary  pilgrims  of  health  and  pleasure  from  our  own  and 
other  lands,  ardent  to  secure  the  acme  of  mountain-climbing  enjoyment,  and  to 
view  the  lovely  parks  and  yawning  canons,  the  crests  of  glistening  ice,  and  veils 
of  blistering  brimstone — the  records  of  fire  and  flood,  the  evidences  of  marvel- 
ous eruptions  and  erosions  of  the  present  and  past — we  would  say,  leisurely 
ascend  the  terraced  slopes  of  Mount  Washburn,  and  from  its  oval  summit,  with 
throbbing  heart  but  fearless  eye,  and  soul  expanding,  look  around  you.  One 
day  thus  spent  will  more  adequately  impress  the  mind  with  the  magnitude  and 
marvels  of  this  glorious  Wonderland  than  a  perusal  of  all  the  maps,  reports  and 
other  descriptions  of  the  Park  that  have  ever  been  published. 

Of  all  the  visitors  to  the  National  Park,  none  has  written  more  eloquently 
than  the  Rev.  Wayland  Hoyt,  D.  D.,  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  He  says  : 

"  Let  us  take  our  stand  for  a  little  now  upon  Mount  Washburn.  Its  rounded 
crest  is  more  than  10,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  perhaps  5,000  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  valley  out  of  which  it  springs.  Its  smooth  slopes  are  easy 
of  ascent.  You  need  not  dismount  from  your  horse  to  gain  its  summit.  Stand- 
ing there,  you  look  down  upon  the  whole  grand  panorama  as  does  that  eagle 
yonder,  holding  himself  aloft  upon  almost  motionless  wings.  I  doubt  if  there  is 
another  view  at  once  so  majestic  and  so  beautiful  in  the  whole  world.  Your  vision 
darts  through  the  spaces  for  150  miles  on  some  sides.  You  are  standing  upon  a 
mountain  lifting  itself  out  of  a  vast  saucer-shaped  depression.  Away  yonder, 
where  the  sky  seems  to  meet  the  earth  on  every  side  around  the  whole  circum- 
ference of  your  sight,  are  lines  and  ranges  of  snow-capped  peaks  shutting  your 
glances  in.  Yonder  shoot  upward  the  serrated  peaks  of  Pilot  Mountain  in  the 
Clark's  Fork  Range.  Joined  to  that,  sweep  on  around  you  in  the  dim  distance 
the  snowy  lines  of  the  Madison  Range.  Yonder  join  hands  with  these  the 
Stinking  Water  Mountains,  and  so  on  and  on  and  around.  Do  you  see  that 
sharp,  pinnacle-pointed  mountain  away  off  at  the  southwest,  shining  in  its  gar- 
ments of  white  against  the  blue  of  the  summer  sky?  That  is  Mount  Evarts, 
named  after  the  poor  lost  wanderer  who  for  thirty-seven  days  of  deadly  peril 
and  starvation  sought  a  way  of  escape  from  these  frowning  mountain  barriers, 
which  shut  him  in  so  remorselessly,  and  it  marks  the  divide  of  the  continent. 

"Take  now  a  closer  view  for  a  moment.  Mark  the  lower  hills  folded  in  their 
thick  draperies  of  pine  and  spruce,  like  dark  green  velvet  of  the  softest  and  the 
deepest;  notice,  too,  those  beautiful  park-like  spaces  where  the  trees  refuse  to 
grow,  and  where  the  prairie  spreads  its  smooth  sward  freely  toward  the  sunlight. 
And  those  spots  of  steam  breaking  into  the  vision  every  now  and  then,  and  float- 
ing off  like  the  whitest  clouds  that  ever  graced  the  summer  sky — those  are  the 
signals  of  the  geysers  at  their  strange  duty,  yonder  in  the  geyser  basins  thirty 
miles  away.  And  those  bits  of  silver  flashing  hither  and  thither  on  the  hillsides 
amid  the  dense  green  of  the  forests — these  are  waterfalls  and  fragments  of  ice 


30  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

glaciers,  which  for  ages  have  been  at  their  duty  of  sculpturing  these  mountains, 
and  have  not  yet  completed  it.  And  that  lovely  deep  blue  sheet  of  water,  of 
such  a  dainty  shape,  running  its  arms  out  toward  the  hills,  and  bearing  on  its 
serene  bosom  emeralds  of  islands — that  is  the  sweetest  sheet  of  water  in  the 
world — that  is  the  Yellowstone  Lake.  And  that  exquisite  broad  sheen  of  silver, 
winding  through  the  green  of  the  trees  and  the  brown  of  the  prairie — that  is  the 
Yellowstone  River,  starting  on  its  wonderful  journey  to  the  Missouri,  and  thence 
downward  to  the  Gulf,  between  6,000  and  7,000  miles  away.  But,  nearer  to  us, 
almost  at  our  feet,  as  we  trace  this  broad  line  of  silver,  the  eye  encounters  a 
frightful  chasm,  as  if  the  earth  had  suddenly  sunk  away;  and  into  its  gloomy 
depths  the  brightness  and  beauty  of  the  shining  river  leaps,  and  is  thencefor- 
ward lost  altogether  to  the  view — that  is  the  tremendous  canon,  or  gorge,  of 
the  Yellowstone." 

Bishop  Foss,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  in  a  letter  to  the  North- 
western Christian  Advocate,  of  Sept.  12,  1883,  after  referring  to  his  journey  of  a 
thousand  miles  on  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  as  the  perfection  of  ease  and 
comfort  in  railway  travel,  writes  thus  of  the  National  Park  : 

"  Nowhere  else  on  the  face  of  the  earth  can  there  be  found  such  a  multitude 
and  variety  of  natural  wonders,  and  especially  such  abundant  evidences  of 
intensely  heated  subterranean  waters.  The  eye  of  the  tourist  is  arrested, 
delighted  and  startled  in  turn  by  grand  mountains  flecked  with  perpetual  snow, 
and  radiant  with  strange  varieties  of  color  ;  lovely  lakes  ;  roaring  torrents,  the 
greenest  of  green  and  the  bluest  of  blue;  towering  precipices,  immense  gulches 
and  canons,  cliffs  of  volcanic  glass,  mighty  cataracts,  verdant  valleys,  seething 
pots  of  many-colored  mud;  boiling  springs — many  hundreds  of  them — of  every 
conceivable  variety,  some  of  them  large,  steaming  lakes  of  wondrously  transpar- 
ent depth,  and  of  indescribable  richness  of  coloring,  emerald,  turquoise,  topaz, 
prismatic ;  appalling  caldrons,  roaring  steam  vents  ;  above  all,  genuine  geysers 
of  every  size,  form,  and  period  of  eruption,  including  much  the  largest  known  in 
any  land. 

********** 

"  By  far  the  largest  collection  of  geysers  is  in  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin,  fifty 
miles  south  from  the  Mammoth  Hot  Spring.  Here,  in  a  narrow  valley  two  miles 
long,  are  geysers  far  surpassing  in  number  and  in  size  those  of  Iceland,  New 
Zealand,  or  any  other  part  of  the  world.  Some  of  their  names  are  very  suggest- 
ive :  Old  Faithful,  the  Bee  Hive,  Castle,  Splendid,  Grand,  Giantess,  Giant,  Lion, 
Lioness  and  Cubs,  the  Saw  Mill,  Comet,  Riverside,  Fan.  Some  of  them  have  built 
up  sloping  mounds  covering  many  acres,  and  capped  with  cones  from  four  to 
twenty  feet  high.  Their  periods  of  eruption  vary  from  a  few  seconds  to  fifteen 
days  or  longer  ;  their  height,  from  a  few  yards  to  300  feet ;  their  volume,  from 
an  amusing  spray  to  an  awful  flood.  Some  are  steaming,  sizzling,  boiling,  roar- 
ing or  groaning  constantly  ;  others,  entirely  quiet  until  just  before  eruption.  The 
first  large  geyser  I  saw  in  action  was  Old  Faithful ;  and  as  its  stately  column  rose 
to  a  height  of  150  feet,  this  deep  impression  thrilled  me  :  'Great  and  marvelous 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  31 

are  thy  works,  O  Lord  God  Almighty ! '  For  two  days,  whenever  I  sat  at  my 
tent  door,  the 'same  august  spectacle  greeted  me,  at  intervals  ranging  from  forty 
to  seventy-five  minutes,  with  an  ever-heightening  impression.  Majestically  beau- 
tiful art  thou,  Old  Faithful !  Thou  shalt  ever  keep  thy  place  in  the  picture 
gallery  of  my  memory  beside  Jungfrau,  Lake  George  and  the  Milan  Cathedral." 

President  Arthur,  after  his  trip  to  the  National  Park,  in  1883,  said:  "The 
scenery  of  the  National  Park  seemed  to  me  simply  magnificent.  The  Catskills 
are  wild  enough  and  sufficiently  beautiful  in  their  own  way,  but  they  fall  far  short 
of  that  majestic  grandeur  which  so  pre-eminently  characterizes  the  Yellowstone 
Park — the  vast  spur's  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  traversed  by  the  Yellowstone  at 
an  elevation  of  not  less  than  8,000  feet." 

Said  a  distinguished  member  of  the  royal  household  of  Denmark,  who  made 
a  tour  of  the  Yellowstone  National  Park  in  June,  1882  :  "  I  am  expected  to  deliver 
a  lecture  on  America  before  a  geographical  congress  to  be  held  in  Europe  this 
fall,  but  I  fear  it  will  be  all  'Yellowstone.'  All  the  other  leading  features  of  my 
trip  around  the  world  seem  for  the  present  in  a  grand  confusion,  while  I  am  so 
possessed  with  this  one  ineffable  attraction." 

Who  has  not  heard  of,  and  what  lover  of  the  stage  has  not  seen,  the  popular, 
genial  tragedian,  John  McCullough  ?  Listen  to  this  great  actor  while  he  speaks 
of  his  visit  to  the  National  Park  : 

"  It  was  the  pleasantest  five  weeks  of  my  life,  this  last  vacation.  I  debated 
whether  I  should -go  with  Sheridan  or  to  Europe.  I  am  exceedingly  glad  I  stayed 
in  America.  It  is  the  grandest  country,  spectacularly,  God  Almighty  has  made. 
Shakespeare's  dictum,  '  Nature  is  greater  than  art,'  is  here  verified  again  and 
again.  I  confess  I  was  skeptical ;  I  read  the  most  exaggerated  (as  I  then  thought) 
accounts  of  the  Park  and  its  wonders,  and  was  as  heretical  as  could  be :  the  half 
was  not  told.  The  half?  Not  the  thousandth  part ;  nor  can  it  be.  Pages  of 
description  are  all  too  faint,  though  the  strongest  superlatives  in  the  language 
are  used  unstintedly.  Why !  to  sit  on  the  edge  of  Hell's  Half  Acre  and  watch 
the  Sheridan  geyser,  is  to  have  a  lifetime  memory.  It  is  twice  as  big  as  this 
hotel  (the  Metropolitan),  and  the  steam  and  water  ascend  to  a  height  of  400  feet. 
It  is  indescribably  grand  to  watch  it  first  sending  up  a  cloud  of  steam,  then  water, 
higher  and  higher,  until  the  stupendous  magnitude  of  a  full  eruption  is  reached. 
*  *  *  The  Grand  Canon  is  a  marvel  of  the  world,  and  the  falls — why  !  what 
is  Niagara  to  them  ?  When  I  tell  you  that  a  vast  body  of  water  leaps  down  a 
precipice  350  feet  high,  you  can  gather  a  faint  idea  of  what  it  is.  I  could  go  on 
for  hours  telling  of  the  wonders  !  " 

Of  the  beauties  of  the  Lower  Geyser  Basin,  which  extends  southward  from 
the  junction  of  the  east  fork  of  the  Firehole  river  with  the  main  stream,  Pro- 
fessor R.  W.  Raymond  says  : 

"  In  some  of  the  elements  of  beauty  and  interest,  the  Lower  Geyser  Basin  is 
superior  to  its  more  startling  rival.  It  is  broader  and  more  easily  surveyed  as  a 
whole,  and  its  springs  are  more  numerous,  though  not  so  powerful.  Nothing 
can  be  lovelier  than  the  sight,  at  sunrise,  of  the  white  steam  columns,  tinged 


32  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

with  rosy  morning,  ascending  against  the  background  of  the  dark  pine  woods 
and  the  clear  sky  above.  The  variety  in  form  and  character  of  these  springs  is 
quite  remarkable.  A  few  of  them  make  faint  deposits  of  sulphur,  though  the 
greater  number  appear  to  be  purely  silicious.  One  very  large  basin  (forty  by 
sixty  feet)  is  filled  with  the  most  beautiful  slime,  varying  in  tint  from  white  to 
pink,  which  blobs  and  spits  away,  trying  to  boil,  like  a  heavy  theologian  forcing 
a  laugh  to  please  a  friend,  in  spite  of  his  natural  specific  gravity.  *  *  *  * 
The  extinct  geysers  are  the  most  beautiful  objects  of  all.  Around  their  borders 


the  white  incrustations  form 
quaint  arabesques  and  orna- 
mental bosses,  resembling  pet- 
rified vegetable  growths.  The 
sides  of  the  reservoir  are  corru- 
gated and  indented  fancifully, 

like  the  recesses  and  branching  passages  of  a  fairy  cavern.  The  water  is 
brightly  but  not  deeply  blue.  Over  its  surface  curls  a  light  vapor  ;  through  its 
crystal  clearness  one  may  gaze,  apparently,  to  unfathomable  depths ;  and,  seen 
through  this  wondrous  medium,  the  white  walls  seem  like  silver,  ribbed  and 
crusted  with  pearl.  When  the  sun  strikes  across  the  scene,  the  last  touch 
of  unexpected  beauty  is  added.  The  projected  shadow  of  the  decorated  edge 
reveals  by  contrast  new  glories  in  the  depths;  every  ripple  on  the  surface  makes 
marvelous  play  of  tint  and  shade  on  the  pearly  bottom.  One  half  expects  to  see 
a  lovely  naiad  emerge  with  floating  grace  from  her  fantastically  carven  covert, 
and  gaily  kiss  her  snowy  hand  through  the  blue  wave.  In  one  of  these  laugs  the 


TO    THE   PACIFIC  COAST.  33 

whitened  skeleton  of  a  mountain  buffalo  was  discovered.  By  whatever  accident 
he  met  his  fate  there,  no  king  or  saint  was  ever  more  magnificently  entombed. 
Not  the  shrine  of  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  with  its  white  marbles  and  its  silver 
lamps,  is  so  resplendent  as  this  sepulchre  in  the  wilderness." 

Of  the  Lower  Falls  and  Grand  Canon  of  the  Yellowstone,  Dr.  Wayland 
Hoyt,  in  a  magnificent  piece  of  descriptive  writing,  worthy  of  his  subject, 
says  : 

"  Well,  we  nave  reaqhed  Cascade  Creek  at  last;  and  a  beautiful  grove  of  trees, 
beneath  whose  shade  sparkles  a  clear  stream,  whose  waters  are  free  from  the 
nauseous  taste  of  alkali,  furnishes  a  delightful  place  in  which  to  camp.  Now — 
dismounting,  and  seeing  that  your  horse  is  well  cared  for,  while  the  men  are  un- 
loading the  pack-mules  and  pitching  the  tents — walk  up  that  trail  winding  up 
that  hillside;  follow  it  for  a  little  among  the  solemn  pines,  and  then  pass  out 
from  the  tree  shadows,  and  take  your  stand  upon  that  jutting  rock — clinging  to 
it  well  meanwhile,  and  being  very  sure  of  your  footing,  for  your  head  will  surely 
grow  dizzy — and  there  opens  before  you  one  of  the  most  stupendous  scenes  of 
nature — THE  LOWER  FALLS  AND  THE  AWFUL  CANON  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE. 

"  And  now,  where  shall  I  begin,  and  how  shall  I,  in  any  wise,  describe  this 
tremendous  sight — its  overpowering  grandeur,  and,  at  the  same  time,  its  inex- 
pressible beauty  ? 

"  Look  yonder — those  are  the  Lower  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone.  They  are  not 
the  grandest  in  the  world,  but  there  are  none  more  beautiful.  There  is  not  the 
breadth  and  dash  of  Niagara,  nor  is  there  the  enormous  depth  of  leap  of  some 
of  the  waterfalls  of  the  Yosemite.  But  here  is  majesty  of  its  own  kind,  and 
beauty,  too.  On  either  side  are  vast  pinnacles  of  sculptured  rock.  There,  where 
the  rock  opens  for  the  river,  its  waters  are  compressed  from  a  width  of  200  feet 
between  the  Upper  and  Lower  Falls  to  100  feet  where  it  takes  the  plunge.  The 
shelf  of  rock  over  which  it  leaps  is  absolutely  level.  The  water  seems  to  wait  a 
moment  on  its  verge;  then  it  passes  with  a  single  bound  of  300  feet  into  the 
gorge  below.  It  is  a  sheer,  unbroken,  compact,  shining  mass  of  silver  foam. 
But  your  eyes  are  all  the  time  distracted  from  the  fall  itself,  great  and  beautiful 
as  it  is,  to  its  marvelous  setting — to  the  surprising,  overmastering  canon  into 
which  the  river  leaps  and  through  which  it  flows,  dwindling  to  but  a  foamy 
ribbon  there  in  its  appalling  depths.  As  you  cling  here  to  this  jutting  rock  the 
falls  are  already  many  hundred  feet  below  you.  The  falls  unroll  their  whiteness 
down  amid  the  canon  glooms.  *  *  *  These  rocky  sides  are  almost  perpendic- 
ular— indeed,  in  many  places  the  boiling  springs  have  gouged  them  out  so  as  to 
leave  overhanging  cliffs  and  tables  at  the  top.  Take  a  stone  and  throw  it  over — 
you  must  wait  long  before  you  hear  it  strike.  Nothing  more  awful  have  I  ever 
seen  than  the  yawning  of  that  chasm.  And  the  stillness,  solemn  as  midnight,  pro- 
found as  death  !  The  water  dashing  there,  as  in  a  kind  of  agony,  against  those 
rocks,  you  can  not  hear.  The  mighty  distance  lays  the  finger  of  its  silence  on  its 
white  lips.  You  are  oppressed  with  a  sense  of  danger.  It  is  as  though  the  vast- 
ness  would  soon  force  you  from  the  rock  to  which  you  cling.  The  silence,  the 

3 


34 


THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 


sheer  depth,  the  gloom,  burden  you.     It  is  a  relief  to  feel  the  firm  earth  beneath 
your  feet  again,  as  you  carefully  crawl  back  from  your  perching  place. 

"  But  this  is  not  all,  nor  is  the  half  yet  told.  As  soon  as  you  can  stand  it,  go 
out  on  that  jutting  rock  again  and  mark  the  sculpturing  of  God  upon  those  vast 
and  solemn  walls.  By  dash  of  wind  and  wave,  by  forces  of  the  frost,  by  file  of 
snow  plunge  and  glacier  and  mountain  torrent,  by  the  hot  breath  of  boiling 
springs,  those  walls  have  been  cut  into  the  most  various  and  surprising  shapes. 
I  have  seen  the  middle-age  castles  along  the  Rhine:  but  those  castles  are  repro- 
duced exactly.  I  have  seen  the  soaring  summits  of  the  great  cathedral  spires  in 
the  country  beyond  the  sea:  there  they  stand  in  prototype,  only  loftier  and 
sublimer. 

"  And  then,  of  course,  and  almost  beyond  all  else,  you  are  fascinated  by  the 
magnificence  and  utter  opulence  of  color.  Those  are  not  simply  gray  and 
hoary  depths  and  reaches  and  domes  and  pinnacles  of  sullen  rock.  The  whole 
gorge  flames.  It  is  as  though  rainbows  had  fallen  out  of  the  sky  and  hung 
themselves  there  like  glorious  banners.  The  underlying  color  is  the  clearest 
yellow;  this  flushes  onward  into  orange.  Down  at  the  base  the  deepest  mosses 
unroll  their  draperies  of  the  most  vivid  green;  browns,  sweet  and  soft,  do  their 
blending;  white  rocks  stand  spectral;  turrets  of  rock  shoot  up  as  crimson  as 
though  they  were  drenched  through  with  blood.  It  is  a  wilderness  of  color.  It 
is  impossible  that  even  the  pencil  of  an  artist  can  tell  it.  What  you  would  call, 
accustomed  to  the  softer  tints  of  nature,  a  great  exaggeration,  would  be  the 
utmost  lameness  compared  with  the  reality.  It  is  as  though  the  most  glorious 
sunset  you  ever  saw  had  been  caught  and  held  upon  that  resplendent,  awful 
gorge. 

"  Through  nearly  all  the  hours  of  that  afternoon  until  the  sunset  shadows 
came,  and  afterward,  amid  the  moonbeams,  I  waited  there,  clinging  to  that 
rock,  jutting  out  into  that  overpowering,  gorgeous  chasm.  I  was  appalled  and 
fascinated;  afraid,  and  yet  compelled  to  cling  there.  It  was  an  epoch  in  my 
life." 

Hotel  Accommodations  in  the  Park. 

At  Mammoth  Hot  Springs — of  which  mention  has  already  been  made — a 
large  and  commodious  hotel,  which  would  do  credit  to  Long  Branch,  has  been 
built,  having  capacity  for  400  guests.  It  is  handsomely  furnished  throughout, 
and  has  all  the  modern  improvements  of  hot  and  cold  water,  gas,  etc.,  etc. 
Other  hotels  are  being  erected  at  different  points  in  the  Park. 

It  will  be  the  aim  of  the  parties  controlling  the  stage  routes,  hotels  and  other 
appurtenances  of  the  Park,  to  make  charges  reasonable  for  services  performed, 
and  assurances  are  given  that  no  imposition  will  be  permitted;  on  the  contrary, 
everything  will  be  done  to  make  a  visit  to  the  Park  one  of  pleasure,  profit  and 
economy.  The  management  fully  appreciate  the  fact  that  the  Yellowstone 
National  Park  is  the  finest  pleasure  resort  on  the  continent, — indeed,  it  may  be 
said,  in  the  world  ;  and  every  effort  will  be  made  to  make  visitors  welcome,  and 
to  give  them  a  full  equivalent  for  their  expenditure. 


LAKE  PEND  D'OREILLE,  IDA.HO.    See  page  42. 


(35) 


SdUUlC-UUlSCS,      ^UlUCS     ctllU      aiLCUUclUUS,      LUU3     GlldUUUg      LUCU1     LU    UldlvC    d    UUlllplCLC 

tour  of  the  Park  with  comparative  comfort. 

It  is  well  to  be  provided  with  an  extra  overcoat,  a  gum  rubber  coat,  as  a  pro- 
tection against  storms,  and  warm  underclothing  and  outer  garments;  colored 
glasses,  as  the  sun  is  very  blinding  during  the  middle  of  the  day;  and  to  avoid 
drinking  much  water. 

Should  visitors  desire  to  extend  their  tour  through  the  Park,  and  visit  the 
Great  Yellowstone  Lake  and  Mount  Washburn,  arrangements  can  be  made  with 
parties  having  charge  of  the  stage  routes,  at  Mammoth  Hot  Springs. 

Westward  Still. 

Although  we  have  now  visited  what  we  have  several  times  referred  to  as  the 
greatest  of  all  natural  wonders,  we  are  far  from  having  explored  the  whole  of 
our  Wonderland.  A  thousand  miles  of  railway  still  lie  before  us,  a  railway 
which,  after  scaling  the  dizzy  heights  and  threading  its  way  through  the  lonely 
passes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  will  conduct  us  through  the  most  magnificent 
river  scenery  in  the  world,  and  bring  us  at  last  to  the  far-famed  glaciers  of  Mount 
Tacoma.  Surely  the  passion  for  sight-seeing  grows  with  what  it  feeds  upon; 
for,  so  long  as  such  a  tour  as  this  is  not  unduly  hurried,  and  does  not  involve 
any  sacrifice  of  personal  comfort,  it  really  seems  as  though  it  may  be  extended 
to  almost  any  length. 

After  leaving  Livingston  the  railroad  runs  for  twelve  miles  from  the  valley 
of  the  Yellowstone  to  the  approach  of  the  Bozeman  tunnel,  on  a  grade  of  about 
116  feet  to  the  mile.  The  tunnel  pierces  the  mountains  a  distance  of  3,610  feet, 
at  an  elevation  of  5,565  feet  above  the  ocean.  Some  months  before  the  comple- 
tion of  the  work  a  short,  steep-grade  track  was  laid  over  the  summit  of  the  pass 
for  temporary  use.  It  is  far  more  agreeable  to  ride  over  the  mountain  than 
through  it,  and  there  are  glorious  views  in  every  direction.  The  train  runs- 
down  the  western  slope  in  the  wild  defile  of  Rock  Canon,  passing  out  into  the 
broad,  fertile  valley  of  the  West  Gallatin,  at  Elliston,  near  the  military  post  of 
Fort  Ellis,  twenty-two  miles  from  Livingston. 

A  few  minutes  more  and  we  run  into  Bozeman,  one  of  the  oldest  towns  in 
Montana.  This  place  was  laid  out  long  before  any  active  operations  were  com- 
menced in  the  construction  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  and  it  has  grown 
to  considerable  size  and  importance.  It  seems  not  a  little  strange  in  these  days- 
of  railroads  to  read  that,  when  the  first  train  arrived  in  Bozeman,  there  were 
people,  not  savages,  but  well  educated  and  refined,  who  turned  out  to  look  at  a 
railway  train  for  the  first  time.  Bozeman  is  situated  near  the  eastern  end  of  the 
Gallatin  valley.  North  of  the  city  the  mountains  are  about  three  miles  distant, 
but  the  range  suddenly  diverges  in  the  same  direction,  and  afterward  the  valley 
becomes  twenty  miles  in  width.  The  city  presents  a  very  attractive  appearance, 
with  its  many  substantial  brick  structures,  among  which  are  business  blocks, 
churches,  graded  schools,  and  a  fine  court-house,  while  on  every  side  appear 
handsome  residences  and  neat,  cozy  cottages.  The  scenery  surrounding  Bozeman 


broad  valley  can  be  seen,  with  its  fields  of  grain,  its  swift  streams,  its  irrigating 
ditches  glistening  in  the  sunlight  like  silver  ribbons,  its  cozy  little  farm  houses, 
.and  its  encircling  rim  of  gray  mountains  crowned  with  snow. 

After  leaving  Bozeman  the  road  continues  westward  for  thirty  miles  through 
the  beautiful  Gallatin  valley.  There  are  many  farms,  but  no  large  villages,  on 
this  part  of  the  route.  The  junction  of  the  Gallatin,  the  Madison  and  the  Jeffer- 
.-son  rivers  is  effected  at  Gallatin  City.  Here  the  three  minor  streams  are  merged 
into  the  Missouri,  which  flows  northward  150  miles  to  Fort  Benton,  passing  on 
its  course  through  several  grand  canons,  whose  walls  rise  from  1,000  to  2,000 
feet  above  the  river.  At  Fort  Benton  the  Missouri  turns  eastward  and  south- 
ward, uniting  with  the  Mississippi  more  than  3,000  miles  from  its  point  of  begin- 
ning in  the  Gallatin  valley.  For  all  this  distance  the  Missouri  is  navigable  by 
steamboats  of  at  least  200  tons  burden,  except  for  eighteen  miles  at  the  Great 
Falls  above  Fort  Benton.  Many  people  visit  these  falls  in  small  boats,  which 
leave  the  Helena  landing.  Within  a  distance  of  ten  miles  above  the  Great  Falls 
.are  ten  others,  varying  in  height  from  three  to  forty-seven  feet,  three  of  which, 
viz.,  the  Black  Eagle,  Rainbow  and  Crooked  Falls,  can  scarcely  be  surpassed  for 
perfection  of  form  and  graceful  beauty. 

In  the  large  and  fertile  valley  of  the  Missouri,  fifty-nine  miles  from  Bozeman, 
has  recently  sprung  up  a  town  which  will  become  the  distributing  point  for  a 
large  and  fruitful  section  of  country.  The  name  of  Townsend  has  been  given 
to  it ;  and  it  is  the  nearest  station  to  the  celebrated  White  Sulphur  Springs,  at 
the  head  of  Smith  river,  which  are  a  favorite  summer  resort,  and  also  for  many 
remarkable  places  of  picturesque  beauty  in  the  mountains. 

Across  the  Missouri  valley,  in  a  northeasterly  direction,  a  series  of  deep 
gorges,  or  canons,  has  been  cut  by  the  waters  in  the  faces  of  the  precipitous 
mountains.  Crowning  the  summits  of  the  first  range  skirting  the  valley  is  a 
gigantic  ledge  of  lime  rock.  This  ledge  has  been  thrown  up  in  places  to  a  great 
height,  with  almost  vertical  sides,  which  are  partly  smooth,  partly  seamed  and 
gashed  by  ages  of  storms,  and  sometimes  cut  through  from  top  to  bottom  by  the 
streams,  forming  narrow  gorges  of  fantastic  shapes.  Avalanche  Canon  is  of  great 
note  for  its  wild  beauty  and  extensive  and  rich  placer  mines.  This  canon  received 
its  name  from  the  frequency  of  avalanches,  or  snow  slides,  which  rush  down 
its  almost  perpendicular  sides  in  winter,  sometimes  completely  filling  the  gorge. 
Hell  Gate  Canon,  about  two  miles  westward,  while  having  a  peculiarly  suggest- 
ive name,  amply  merits  the  appellation.  Perhaps  in  no  other  accessible  spot  in 
Montana  is  there  as  much  rugged  beauty  in  so  small  a  place.  The  canon  forms 
the  tortuous  passage  of  a  silvery  stream  through  a  series  of  gates  cut  in  very 
high  walls.  These  gates  are  so  narrow  that  a  man  can  span  their  width  with  ex- 
tended arms.  The  walls  are  only  a  few  feet  in  thickness,  but  of  a  surprising 
height.  On  each  side  of  the  main  gorge  are  smooth  fissures,  called  Devil's 
Slides,  and  every  nook  is  filled  with  bright  mosses  and  lichens. 


(38) 


TO    THE   PACIFIC  COAST.  39 

Two  miles  beyond  the  crossing  of  the  Missouri  river  the  railroad  passes 
through  the  mining  town  of  Bedford,  which  was  established  in  1864.  Much 
placer  mining  is  still  carried  on  in  the  vicinity,  and  the  country  for  miles  and 
miles  around  is  covered  with  enormous  piles  of  stones  and  earth,  and  the  debris 
of  the  diggings.  The  road  follows  down  the  valley  of  the  Missouri,  past  one  or 
two  old  and  thrifty  settlements,  to  Helena,  twenty  miles  beyond. 

Helena,  the  capital  of  Montana,  is  situated  at  the  eastern  foot  of  the  main 
chain  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  on  both  sides  of  the  famous  Last  Chance  gulch, 
from  which  at  least  $10,000,000  worth  of  nuggets  and  gold  dust  have  been  taken, 
and  which  still  yields  annually  a  considerable  amount  of  the  precious  metal. 
Its  situation,  as  the  nearest  point  in  the  mining  region  to  the  head  of  navigation 
on  the  Missouri  river  at  Fort  Benton,  made  Helena  a  distributing  centre  in  the 
days  when  merchants  brought  in  a  year's  supply  of  goods  during  the  brief  sea- 
son of  navigation.  It  thus  got  a  start  as  the  chief  commercial  town  of  the  Terri- 
tory, the  advantage  of  which  it  is  not  likely  to  lose. 

Helena  is  surrounded  by  mountains,  rising  one  above  the  other  until  the  more 
distant  are  lost  among  the  clouds,  forming  a  view  of  striking  beauty  and  grand- 
eur, which  is  visible  from  every  part  of  the  city.  To  the  south  and  west  these 
mountains  recede,  in  long,  picturesque,  timbered  ridges,  to  the  main  ridge  of  the 
continental  divide.  The  Missouri  river  is  only  twelve  miles  distant;  and  eighteen 
miles  north  of  the  city  begins  the  famous  canon  of  the  Missouri  river,  named  by 
Lewis  and  Clarke's  expedition,  in  1805,  "The  Gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains." 
Here  the  river  has  forced  its  way  through  a  spur  of  the  Belt  Mountains,  forming 
cliffs,  frequently  vertical,  from  500  to  1,500  feet  high,  which  rise  from  the  water's 
edge  for  a  distance  of  twelve  miles.  Near  the  lower  end  of  this  wonderful  canon, 
in  plain  view  of  Helena,  thirty  miles  distant,  is  the  jagged  peak  called  by  the 
Indians  "The  Bear's  Tooth,"  rising  abruptly  from  the  river  to  a'height  of  2,500 
feet,  and  almost  hanging  over  the  head  of  the  voyager  as  he  floats  down  the 
stream. 

To  the  left  of  this  curious  object  a  few  miles,  and  breaking  through  the  same 
range  of  stratified  mountains,  is  the  canon  of  the  Little  Prickly  Pear  creek,  a 
chasm  some  fifteen  miles  long,  with  an  endless  variety  of  views  of  lofty  cliffs 
crowned  with  pines,  and  romantic  dells  and  gorges,  where  the  cottonwood  and 
the  alder  hang  over  deep,  shady  pools,  in  which  hundreds  of  trout  await  their 
destiny  in  the  shape  of  a  man  with  a  bamboo  rod  and  book  of  flies.  This  canon, 
with  hotel  accommodation  at  each  end  of  it,  is  accessible  by  carriages,  as  well  as 
by  a  stage  line  of  "palace  jerkies,"  which  pass  through  it  three  times  a  week 
for  Fort  Benton.  "The  Gates  of  the  Rocky  Mountains"  are  reached  either  by 
carriages  to  the  upper  end  of  the  canon,  or  by  boat  through  the  canon  itself. 

Among  the  other  attractions  of  Helena  are  the  Hot  Springs,  situated  in  a 
romantic  glen  four  miles  west  of  the  city,  which  are  much  resorted  to  by  persons 
afflicted  with  rheumatism.  The  temperature  of  the  water  as  it  bubbles  up  from 
the  earth  varies  from  no0  to  140°  Fahrenheit. 

By  no  means  pleasing  to  the  eye,  with  its  scrambling,  shadeless  streets  cling- 


its  Chinese  suburb,  Helena  is,  nevertheless,  an  attractive  place.  It  has  good 
hotel  accommodations,  numerous  churches,  and  stores  as  large  and  well  stocked 
as  are  found  in  the  East  in  cities  ten  times  its  size  ;  and  visitors  may  enjoy  the 
society  of  people  who  add  to  culture  that  stamp  of  originality  of  character  so 
common  in  the  Far  West,  and  so  rare  in  old  communities.  Small  as  is  the  city, 
it  has  a  good  deal  of  the  metropolitan  flavor,  due  to  its  comparative  isolation 
in  conjunction  with  its  great  local  importance. 

About  nineteen  miles  from  Helena  the  main  range  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
is  crossed  by  the  railroad  at  the  Mullan  Pass,  so  named  after  Lieutenant  John 
Mullan,  U.  S.  A.,  who,  in  1867,  built  a  wagon  road  from  Fort  Benton,  M.  T.,  to 
Fort  Walla  Walla,  W.  T.,  thus  bringing  these  distant  military  posts  into  direct 
communication.  Here  there  is  a  tunnel  3,850  feet  in  length,  and  5,547  feet 
above  sea  level.  The  route  from  Helena  to  the  Mullan  Pass  is  through  the 
charming  valley  of  the  Prickly  Pear,  across  Ten  Mile  creek,  and  up  past  heavy 
growths  of  pine  and  spruce  and  masses  of  broken  boulders,  the  narrow  basin  of 
Ten  Mile  creek,  to  the  eastern  portal  of  the  tunnel.  The  scene  from  above 
reveals  one  of  the  most  picturesque  regions  in  Montana,  in  which  mountain  and 
valley,  forest  and  stream,  are  all  conspicuous  features.  Describing  the  region 
in  a  recent  letter,  Mr.  E.  V.  Smalley  wrote  : 

"Approached  from  the  east,  the  Rocky  Mountains  seem  well  to  deserve  their 
name.  Gigantic  cliffs  and  buttresses  of  granite  appear  to  bar  the  way,  and  to 
forbid  the  traveler's  further  progress.  There  are  depressions  in  the  range,  how- 
ever, where  ravines  run  up  the  slopes,  and  torrents  come  leaping  down,  fed  by 
melting  snows.  Over  one  of  these  depressions  Lieut.  John  Mullan  built  a  wagon 
road,  a  score  of  years  ago,  to  serve  the  needs  of  army  transportation  between  the 
head  of  navigation  at  the  Great  Falls  of  the  Missouri  and  the  posts  in  Oregon. 
Mullan's  wisdom  in  selecting  the  pass  which  bears  his  name,  was  indorsed  when 
the  railroad  engineers  found  it  to  be  the  most  favorable  on  the  Northern  Pacific 
Line.  The  road  is  carried  up  ravines  and  across  the  face  of  foot-hills  to  a  steep 
wall,  where  it  dives  into  the  mountain  side,  runs  under  the  crest  of  the  divide 
through  a  tunnel  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  and  comes  out  upon  smiling  green 
and  flowery  meadows,  to  follow  a  clear  trout  stream  down  to  a  river  whose  waters 
seek  the  mighty  Columbia.  The  contrast  between  the  western  and  eastern  sides 
of  the  main  divide  of  the  Rockies  is  remarkable.  On  the  eastern  slope  the 
landscapes  are  magnificently  savage  and  sombre  ;  on  the  western  slope  they  have 
a  pleasant  pastoral  beauty,  and  one  might  think  himself  in  the  hill  country  of 
Western  Pennsylvania  instead  of  high  up  on  the  side  of  the  great  water-shed  of 
the  continent.  The  forest  tracts  look  like  groves  planted  by  a  landscape  gardener 
in  some  stately  park,  and  the  grassy  slopes  and  valleys  covered  with  blue  and 
yellow  flowers,  and  traversed  by  swift,  clear  brooks,  add  to  the  pleasure-ground 
appearance  of  the  country.  What  a  glorious  place  this  would  be  for  summer 
camping,  trout  fishing  and  shooting,  is  the  thought  of  every  traveler  as  he 
descends  from  the  summit,  with  his  hands  full  of  flowers  picked  close  to  a  snow- 


rowell  s  reak,  a  massive  white  pyramid,  cuts  the  clear  sky  with  its  sharp  out- 
lines on  the  further  horizon,  and  a  cool  breeze  blows  straight  from  the  Pacific 
Ocean." 

After  leaving  Garrison,  fifty-two  miles  west  of  Helena,  there  are  fine  views 
•  of  mountain  scenery,  especially  on  the  left  hand,  where  the  snow-mantled  peaks 
of  Mount  Powell  appear.  The  railroad  passes  along  near  the  Deer  Lodge 
river,  which  skirts  the  heights  to  the  right.  The  entire  region  is  noted  for 
the  richness  and  extent  of  its  placer  mines,  many  of  the  creeks  having  pro- 
duced large  quantities  of  fine  gold.  Farther  'on,  as  we  approach  Missoula, 
Hell  Gate  Cafion  is  entered.  The  scenery  here  is  very  fine.  Rock-ribbbed 
mountains  rise  on  either  hand,  their  slopes  black  with  noble  specimens  of 
yellow  pine,  and  flecked  in  autumn  with  the  bright  gold  of  giant  tamaracks. 

Beautifully  situated  at  the  western  gateway  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  on  a 
broad  plateau  on  the  north  side  of  the  Missoula  river,  stands  Missoula,  the 
county  seat  of  Missoula  county.  It  commands  a  lovely  view  of  the  valley  and 
the  surrounding  mountain  ranges,  that  stretch  away  far  as  the  eye  can  see. 
This  town  used  to  be  as  isolated  and  remote  a  frontier  post  as  could  be 
found  in  the  Northwest,  but  the  railroad  has  converted  it  into  a  stirring,  ambi- 
tious place. 

From  Missoula  the  course  of  the  railroad  is  northwest  for  nearly  200  miles, 
and  before  it  again  turns  south  it  approaches  within  about  forty-five  miles  of  the 
international  boundary. 

Fourteen  miles  from  Missoula  the  road  enters  the  Coriacan  defile,  and  crosses 
the  Marent  gulch  by  means  of  a  trestle  bridge  866  feet  in  length  and  226  feet  in 
height,  the  construction  of  which  required  i;ooo,ooo  feet  of  lumber.  The  track 
follows  no  valley,  bu-t  proceeds  along  the  faces  of  hills,  which  are  covered  with 
fir,  pine  and  tamarack,  down  into  the  valley  of  the  Jocko  river,  where  the  Agency 
of  the  Flathead  Indians  is  established.  This  beautiful  valley  is  followed  to  the 
confluence  of  the  Jocko  and  Flathead  rivers,  forty-four  miles  from  Missoula. 
To  the  north  is  the  reservation  of  the  Flathead  Indians,  in  which  is  Flathead 
Lake,  an  extensive  and  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  pictur- 
esque scenery.  The  Flatheads  boast  that  their  tribes  never  killed  a  white  man, 
and  it  may  truly  be  said  that  nowhere  are  life  and  property  safer  than  they  are 
here.  The  Flathead  river,  for  twenty-five  miles  after  it  receives  the  waters  of 
the  Jocko,  until  it  is  itself  united  with  the  Missouri,  is  called  the  Pend  d'Oreille 
river.  Eight  miles  beyond  the  railroad  crossing,  the  muddy  waters  of  the  Mis- 
soula, pouring  in  from  the  south,  mix  with  the  bright  flood  of  the  Pend  d'Oreille, 
and  the  united  streams  take  the  designation  Clarke's  Fork  of  the  Columbia. 
This  name  is  retained,  except  where  the  river  widens  out  into  Lake  Pend 
d'Oreille,  100  miles  westward,  until  the  waters  mingle  with  those  of  the  Columbia 
river,  in  the  British  Possessions. 

Two  small  and  charming  valleys  soon  appear,  to  vary  the  fine  mountain 
views.  They  are  Paradise  valley,  which  well  deserves  the  name,  and  Horse 


visioie  10  tne  ngnt,  tne  rauroaa  continues  westwara  along  tne  ngnt  Dank  or  tne 
river  through  a  mountain  region  which  affords  a  succession  of  magnificent 
views.  Everywhere  along  Clarke's  Fork  there  is  the  grandest  scenery.  Magnifi- 
cent vistas  are  presented  as  the  train  moves  along,  changing  and  wearing  new 
forms  at  every  turn.  The  mountains  are  conical,  and  sometimes  vertical,  as 
where  the  river  has  cut  through  them  with  tremendous  force.  The  constant 
succession  of  towering  hills,  grouped  in  wild  array,  is  never  wearying,  and  is 
sometimes  startling  in  effect,  as  when  some  tributary  from  the  north  or  south 
tears  its  way  to  the  greater  stream,  and  offers  a  vista,  reaching  far  through  the 
deep-worn  caiion  or  ravine,  along  which  the  heights  are  ranged  as  far  as  eye 


FLOATING  FISH  WHEEL,  ON  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER,  OREGON. 

can  see.  One  of  the  most  striking  of  these  side  effects 
is  where  Thompson's  river  comes  in  from  the  north,  and 
you  look  up  the  long  and  sharp  ravine  to  catch  a  momentary  glimpse,  from  the 
trestle  bridge,  of  the  foaming  waterfall  and  the.  heights  that  wall  it  in. 

The  whole  of  the  Clarke's  Fork  district  contains  rich  mineral  deposits,  and 
several  mining  camps  have  recently  been  established,  from  which  the  most  en- 
couraging reports  have  been  received. 

A  few  miles  southeast  of  the  point  at  which  the  river  widens  out  into  Lake 
Pend  d'Oreille,  the  road  enters  the  Territory  of  Idaho,  and  is  soon  skirting 
the  shores  of  the  beautiful  and  far-famed  lake.  This  sheet  of  water  may  be 
likened  to  a  broad  and  winding  valley  among  the  mountains,  filled  to  the  brim 
with  gathered  waters.  The  shores  are  mountainous,  but  wherever  there  is 
a  bit  of  beach  it  is  covered  with  dense  forest.  The  view  of  the  lake  from 
the  car  windows  is  superb.  Numerous  mountain  peaks  slope  up  from  the 
water's  edge,  covered  with  thick  forests  of  dark  pine,  intermingled  with  patches 


the  most  permanent  features  of  civilization  are  the  saw  mills,  which,  having 
supplied  material  for  railroad  construction,  are  now  employed  in  manufacturing 
lumber  for  shipment.  The  forest  is  interminable,  but  where  the  mountains 
are  abrupt  the  trees  do  not  grow  large  enough  and  clear  enough  to  make  good 
lumber.  One  of  the  best  places  at  which  to  lie  over  for  a  day's  hunting  or  for 
catching  some  of  the  trout  with  which  the  lake  abounds,  is  Sand  Point.  The 
great  Pend  d'Oreille  forest,  stretching  across  the  northwest  corner  of  Montana 
and  the  panhandle  of  Idaho  into  Eastern  Washington,  is  one  vast  flower-garden, 
there  being  scarcely  a  square  foot  of  the  ground,  save  in  the  dark  recesses  along 
the  courses  of  the  small  streams,  which  does  not  bear  a  blossom. 

Leaving  the  lake,  the  railway  takes  a  southwesterly  sweep,  and,  nine  miles 
beyond  the  town  of  Rathdrum,  crosses  the  Idaho  line  and  enters  Washington 
Territory.  One  of  the  most  singular  districts  of  this  country  is  the  Spokane 
valley.  It  is  thirty  miles  long  and  from  three  to  six  miles  in  width,  surrounded 
by  the  western  ranges  of  the  Lower  Cceur  d'Alene  or  Bitter  Root  Mountains. 

The  Spokane  river  rises  in  Coeur  d'Ale^ne  Lake,  close  under  the  timbered 
mountains  in  Idaho,  about  ten  miles  south  of  the  railroad.  While  the  rivers 
that  drain  the  western  water-shed  of  the  Cceur  d'Alene  Mountains  pour  im- 
mense volumes  of  water  into  the  lake,  the  Spokane  river,  the  lake's  only  outlet, 
is  but  a  brook  in  size,  with  no  tributaries  of  importance.  Still,  thirty  miles 
below  the  lake,  it  becomes  a  roaring  cataract,  at  the  town  of  Spokane  Falls. 
The  theory  is  advanced  that  the  increased  volume  is. due  to  the  percolation 
of  the  upper  waters  through  the  gravelly  soil.  Lake  Cceur  d'Alene  rivals  in 
the  beauty  of  its  waters  and  the  grandeur  of  its  mountain  surroundings  its 
more  accessible  neighbor,  Lake  Pend  d'Oreille.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  rich 
mining  country. 

The  first  point  of  importance  in  Washington  Territory  is  Spokane  Falls, 
which  has,  in  some  respects,  a  greater  claim  to  consideration  than  any  other  place 
east  of  the  Cascade  Mountains.  Its  situation  is  very  beautiful,  looking  out,  as 
it  does,  upon  the  hills,  with  the  grand  roaring  waterfall  close  at  hand. 

The  falls,  seen  when  melting  snows  swell  the  flow  and  the  banks  are  brimming 
with  the  hurrying  flood,  are  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  Basaltic  islands  divide 
the  broad  river,  and  the  waters  rush  in  swift  rapids  to  meet  these  obstructions. 
A  public  bridge  crosses  from  island  to  island.  The  width  of  the  river  is 
nearly  half  a  mile.  There  are  three  great  streams  curving  toward  each  other, 
and  pouring  their  floods  into  a  common  basin.  Reunited,  the  waters  foam  and 
toss  for  a  few  hundred  yards  in  whirling  rapids,  and  then  make  another  plunge 
into  the  canon  beyond.  Standing  on  the  rocky  ledge  below  the  second  water- 
fall, and  looking  up  the  stream,  a  fine  view  is  obtained  of  the  wonderful  display 
of  force.  All  things  else  seem  weak  and  trivial  compared  with  the  tremendous 
torrent  that  heaves  and  plunges  below,  and  the  grand  cascades  that  foam 
and  toss  above. 


44  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

Sixty-eight  miles  north  of  Spokane  Falls  is  the  Chewelah  country,  a  region 
of  extraordinary  mineral  wealth.  Considerable  quantities  of  gold  have  been 
brought  thence  by  the  Indians,  who  bear  emphatic  testimony  to  its  abundance. 
Capitalists  are  already  arranging  to  commence  operations  for  the  development 
of  this  rich  country. 

A  few  miles  to  the  north  of  the  road,  almost  equidistant  between  Spokane 
and  Cheney,  there  is  a  group  of  five  lakes,  from  one  to  three  miles  long.  Three 
of  these  lakes,  having  great  depth,  are  very  strongly  impregnated  with  alkaline 
salts,  and  their  waters  have  remarkable  curative  properties.  One  in  particular 
attracts  hundreds  of  invalids,  especially  persons  afflicted  with  rheumatism,  skin 
diseases  and  nervous  complaints.  Many  undoubted  cures  of  a  remarkable 
nature  are  recorded.  This  medical  lake,  par  excellence,  has  a  medium  strength 
of  salts,  while  another  has  a  very  strong  impregnation,  and  the  third  but  a 
mild  one.  The  region  is  delightful,  and  can  be  made  a  very  pleasant  resort. 
The  proprietors  of  the  town — Medical  Lake — are  doing  what  they  can  to 
accommodate  the  public  by  building  hotels  and  erecting  bathing  establishments. 

Not  until  the  Columbia  river  is  reached,  165  miles  southwest  of  the  Idaho 
line,  does  the  country  present  any  further  features  upon  which  we  need  dwell  ; 
but  in  the  land — 

"Where  rolls  the  Oregon," 

we  are  in  a  region  of  surpassing  interest.  As  has  well  been  said  by  a  writer  from 
whose  graphic  descriptions  of  Northwestern  scenery  we  have  already  quoted  : 

"  There  are  few  points  on  the  American  continent  that  can  rival  Oregon  for 
grand  and  imposing  scenery.  The  lofty  peak  of  Mount  Hood,  like  a  magnified 
Egyptian  pyramid,  sheeted  in  snow,  and  set  upon  an  immense  green  wall,  is  the 
most  beautiful  mountain  of  the  whole  Pacific  coast,  if  symmetry  of  form  be 
regarded  as  the  first  element  in  beauty,  and  in  height  and  massiveness  it  is  sur- 
passed only  by  Mount  Tacoma.  The  great  Sugar  Loaf  of  Mount  St.  Helens, 
though  on  the  Washington  side  of  the  Columbia,  belongs  to  the  scenery  of 
Oregon  as  well  as  to  that  of  the  neighboring  Territory,  and  so  does  Mount 
Adams.  All  three  of  these  glittering  peaks,  as  well  as  the  summit  of  Tacoma, 
far  in  the  north,  and  of  Jefferson  on  the  southern  horizon,  can  be  seen  from  the 
hills  back  of  Portland.  The  lower  peaks  and  ranges  of  the  Coast  and  Cascade 
Mountains,  and  of  the  Calapovia  and  Siskiyou  Mountains  in  Southern  Oregon, 
present  to  the  eye  a  thousand  pleasing  outlines. 

"  In  the  grandeur  of  its  shores  the  Columbia  ranks  first  of  American  rivers. 
Its  current  is  as  impetuous  as  that  of  the  Mississippi ;  its  mountain  walls  and 
palisades  are  far  loftier  than  those  of  the  Hudson  ;  cataracts  like  those  of  the 
Yosemite  valley  dash  over  its  basaltic  cliffs.  At  the  Dalles  it  buries  itself  in  a 
profound  crevice,  whose  depth  has  never  been  fathomed,  showing  of  its  surface 
only  as  much  as  can  be  compassed  by  a  stone's  throw  ;  at  Astoria  it  becomes  a 
broad  tidal  estuary,  whose  farther  shores  lie  in  dim  distance  ;  at  the  Cascades  it 
is  a  foaming,  headlong  torrent ;  at  the  mouth  of  the  Willamette  it  is  a  placid 
lake,  encircling  many  green  islands.  The  Willamette  has  an  emerald-green  cur- 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  45 

rent,  and  flows  between  gentle  slopes,  through  farms  and  woodland,  past  orchards 
anH  pretty  villages — a  placid  and  idyllic  stream,  save  where  it  leaps  down  forty 
feet  in  one  bound  at  its  falls,  and  makes  a  small  Niagara  of  white  foam  and  rain- 
bow-tinted spray.  Indeed,  to  briefly  catalogue  half  the  special  scenic  features  of 
Oregon  would  demand  a  great  deal  more  space  than  this  chapter  affords.  Enough 
to  say  that  the  State  has  all  the  grandeur  and  loveliness  in  landscapes  that  mount- 
ains, rivers,  valleys,  waterfalls,  lakes  and  the  ocean  can  give,  and  that  tourists 
will  find  within  its  bounds,  and  those  of  its  neighbor,  Washington,  a  combination 
of  Switzerland  and  Maine,  of  Italy  and  Norway." 

At  Ainsworth  the  train  crosses  the  Snake  river,  near  its  confluence  with  the 
Columbia,  by  a  massive  iron  bridge,  1,541  feet  in  length — next  to  the  Bismarck 
bridge  over  the  Missouri  river  the  most  important  structure  of  the  kind  on  the 
entire  Northern  Pacific  system — and  enters  the  Walla  Walla  country,  a  magnifi- 
cent farming  belt,  of  amazing  fertility.  Throughout  its  entire  extent  of  12,000 
square  miles  or  more,  there  is  scarcely  an  acre  of  waste  land,  and  the  harvests  of 
fruit  and  grain  yielded  by  its  uniformly  productive  soil  are  enormous. 

Some  200  miles  to  the  southeast,  midway  between  the  Blue  Mountains  and 
Snake  river,  lies  the  old  town  of  Baker  City,  a  business  point  of  considerable 
importance,  commanding  the  trade  of  a  wide  section  of  Eastern  and  Southeastern 
Oregon.  The  locality  is  rich  in  minerals;  and  gold  mining,  both  placer  and 
quartz,  is  being  successfully  carried  on.  Baker  City  is  reached  by  a  branch 
diverging  from  the  main  line  at  Umatilla  Junction,  forty-one  miles  west,  or,  more 
strictly,  southwest,  of  Ainsworth.  Thirteen  miles  on  the  Portland  side  of  Ains- 
worth there  is,  however,  a  still  more  important  junction — Wallula — the  eastern 
terminus  of  the  Cascade  Division  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  running 
northwest  to  Puget  Sound.  This  section,  the  only  portion  of  the  original  project 
not  yet  brought  to  completion,  is  being  rapidly  pushed  on  with  from  both  ends, 
and  another  year  will  see  it  open  for  traffic.  In  addition  to  rendering  accessible 
some  of  the  finest  scenery  of  the  majestic  Cascade  Range,  and  promoting  the  set- 
tlement and  development  of  a  tract  of  country  of  surpassing  fertility,  this  line 
will  shorten  the  distance  from  all  eastern  points  to  the  finest  harbor  on  the  Pacific 
coast  by  nearly  150  miles. 

For  upward  of  200  miles  we  now  follow  the  windings  of  the  Columbia  river — 
the  peerless  Columbia.  For  some  distance  the  shores  of  the  river  are  low,  and 
the  surrounding  country  is  level  and  uninteresting ;  but,  that  region  passed,  the 
lordly  stream  flows  through  deep-cut  banks,  hundreds  of  feet  in  height.  At  the 
mouth  of  the  John  Day  river  the  scenery  increases  in  rugged  grandeur,  and  the 
rapids  in  the  river  render  navigation  somewhat  difficult.  Near  this  point  is  a 
remarkable  lava  bed,  over  and  through  which  the  railroad  passes.  The  space 
between  the  river  and  the  bluffs  is  narrow,  and  is  filled  with  black  incrustations 
of  lava,  affording  a  glimpse  of  a  region  in  appearance  veritably  infernal.  It  is 
pleasant  to  know  that  on  the  heights  above  us  are  waving  fields  of  grain,  and  that 
a  little  way  up  the  John  Day  river  is  an  orchard,  with  thousands  of  fruit-bearing 
trees. 


MtlLTNOMAH   PALLS— COLUMBIA   RlVER 


(46) 


famous  Yakima  valley,  where  hop  growing  is  now  being  carried  on  with  great 
success.  The  Cascade  Division  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  was  recently 
completed  to  Yakima  City.  The  facilities  for  transportation  thus  afforded  will 
doubtless  give  a  great  impetus  to  the  development  of  the  country. 

Celilo,  127  miles  from  Ainsworth,  means  "The  Place  of  the  Winds."  The 
hills  on  the  Washington  side  rise  steep  and  frowning,  and  on  the  Oregon  shore 
the  shifting  sands  are  driven  by  the  unceasing  winds.  For  hundreds  of  miles 
above  this  point  the  river  is  navigable  ;  but  for  the  next  thirteen  miles  navigation 
is  beset  with  difficulties  that  are  seldom  faced — only,  in  fact,  when  it  becomes 
necessary  to  transfer  a  steamer  from  the  upper  to  the  middle  river,  or  vice  versa. 
When  the  melting  snows  have  swollen  the  Columbia  to  its  fullest  flow,  and  the 
waters  boil  so  far  above  the  rocks  as  to  make  the  passage  possible,  a  cool  nerve 
and  consummate  skill  will  carry  a  steamboat  through  in  safety. 

Soon  after  leaving  Celilo  the  classic  regions  of  the  great  river  are  approached. 
If  it  is  early  summer,  the  hills  to  the  north  have  not  entirely  thrown  off  their 
tinge  of  silver  gray,  given  by  the  waving  bunch  grass.  Later,  after  the  grass  has 
matured,  these  great  hills,  as  well  as  the  plains,  turn  to  tints  of  golden  brown. 
A  short  distance  below  Celilo  the  track  curves  around  a  steep  basaltic  cliff  that 
overlooks  the  river,  and  bears  the  name  of  Cape  Horn.  Early  travelers  were 
not  apt  at  names,  and  too  often  attached  commonplace  appellations  to  grand 
objects  that  deserve  respectful  treatment.  This  Cape  Horn  has  no  distinctive 
name,  because  there  is  another  and  grander  Cape  Horn  on  the  river  below. 

If  it  is  early  summer,  and  the  Columbia  is  at  flood,  there  will  be  seen  below 
Celilo  the  Little  Dalles  of  the  river,  a  spot  where  the  fall  is  enough  to  create 
foaming  rapids  for  half  a  mile  or  more,  as  the  pent-up  water  rushes  between  the 
lava  walls.  The  Little  Dalles,  however  fine  in  itself,  is  rendered  almost  insignifi- 
cant by  comparison  with  the  Great  Dalles,  six  or  eight  miles  below. 

On  the  Washington  side  is  a  picturesque  Indian  village,  where,  in  the  season, 
the  red-skins  may  be  seen  catching  salmon,  which  they  dry  for  winter  food. 

We  are  now  drawing  near  the  Great  Dalles  of  the  Columbia.  When  the  river 
is  low,  this  spot  would  not  strike  an  unobservant  stranger. 

It  is,  however,  at  all  times  one  that  will  abundantly  repay  a  careful  examina- 
tion. During  the  dry  season  the  mighty  Columbia  shrinks  to  little  over  sixty 
yards  in  width,  and  you  can  wander  over  the  rocky  channel  for  a  considerable 
distance.  The  roaring,  boiling  flood  that  rushes  furiously  along  and  hurls  itself 
impetuously  against  the  huge  rocks  which  bar  its  progress,  is,  however,  absolutely 
fathomless.  For  more  than  two  mile^  the  waters  seethe  and  foam  in  their  narrow, 
tortuous  course,  between  the  black  and  rock-bound  shores.  When  the  visitor 
looks  up  from  the  wild  and  narrow  scene  to  take  in  a  wider  field  of  vision,  he 
gazes  upon  a  scene  of  grandeur  and  majesty  that  overawes  while  it  impresses 
him. 

To  the  west  lies  Dalles  City,  with  its'  background  of  near  hills  and  distant 


48 

mountains.  Towering  above  all,  in  regal  splendor,  is  the  queenly  Mount  Hood, 
whose  majestic  form,  grand  and  imposing,  yet  having  nothing  of  the  stern  and 
forbidding  aspect  of  so  many  other  famous  mountains,  enraptures  every 
beholder,  and  leaves  an  impression  on  both  heart  and  mind  that  no  traveler 
would  willingly  let  die. 

From  Dalles  City  westward  the  train  follows  the  river's  edge,  the  scenery 
growing  in  beauty  and  interest  with  every  mile.  Soon  after  entering  the  mount- 
ains we  find  pines  and  firs  scattered  on  the  hillsides.  Here  and  there  they 
become  more  or  less  dense.  Presently  we  come  upon  the  Upper  Cascades,  amid 
scenery  of  the  most  charming  character.  We  pass  many  lovely  waterfalls,  which 
pour  over  the  cliffs  so  near  that  you  are  startled  with  the  sound  of  plashing 
waters.  It  is  hard  to  say  whether  the  configuration  of  the  country,  as  seen  to-day, 
owes  more  to  those  mighty  convulsions  which  have  assuredly  taken  place  in  the 
past,  or  to  the  slower,  but  not  less  effectual,  processes  of  nature  which  are  still 
going  on.  It  is  stated  that  a  narrow-gauge  road,  laid  down  during  the  early  days 
of  railroad  construction,  was  once  found  twisted  out  of  line  as  much  as  ten  feet 
by  the  movement  of  the  mountain  at  the  foot  of  which  it  ran.  The  Cascades  are 
near  the  centre  of  the  range.  Majestic  mountains  stand  around  like  walls  of 
adamant,  with  rocky  pinnacles  of  fantastic  form.  At  the  Lower  Cascades  the 
United  States  Government  is  building  an  extensive  system  of  locks,  for  the  con- 
struction of  which  the  sum  of  $3,000,000  has  been  appropriated. 

One  great  advantage  of  the  westward  journey  is  that  the  scenery  increases  in 
beauty  and  sublimity  the  farther  we  travel,  the  most  magnificent  stretch  of  all 
being  entered  upon  after  leaving  Bonneville.  Every  moment  reveals  something 
to  interest  and  attract.  Attention  is  demanded  in  every  direction,  as  new  objects 
are  revealed  in  an  unceasing  panorama.  There  are  terraced  heights,  abrupt 
cliffs,  crags  of  curious  shapes,  and  mountain  upon  mountain,  sometimes  standing 
as  a  wall,  then  grouped  like  an  amphitheatre,  at  other  times  assuming  grotesque 
and  romantic  shapes,  and  ever  and  anon  affording  glimpses  of  enchanting  water- 
falls. Oneonta  Falls,  800  feet  in  height,  are  like  a  silver  ribbon  waving  in  the 
wind.  The  water  at  Multnomah  Falls  makes  a  plunge  of  several  hundred  feet, 
and  then  gathers  itself  together  for  a  further  leap  that  makes  800  feet  in  all. 
Anything  more  beautiful  in  scenery  of  this  description  is  not  to  be  found  in  the 
world.  There  are  other  never-failing  cascades  of  less  note,  and  in  early  spring 
the  face  of  the  cliffs  glistens  with  them. 

A  few  miles  more  and  we  come  to  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  between  which  the 
railroad  passes  as  through  a  colossal  portal  to  the  more  open  lands  beyond.  The 
huge  dimensions  of  these  towering  rocks  excite  the  greatest  astonishment  and 
admiration.  We  think,  with  a  gifted  writer : 

"  How  God's  hand  built  them — not  in  a  manner  of  slow-mounting  masonry, 
gaining  adventurously  and  toilsomely,  foot  by  foot,  and  pushing  its  scaffolding 
ever  higher  to  keep  command  of  the  work,  and  straining  its  energy  to  raising 
aloft  the  chiseled  and  ponderous  blocks  to  their  place — but  with  one  lift,  without 
break  or  course,  or  any  gradations  of  rising  completeness,  the  Supreme  Builder 


(49) 


50  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

set  the  domed  mountains  in  their  place — foundation,  wall,  and  top  stone — one 
sublime  integral  whole,  unprofaned  by  craftsman's  tools,  untrod  by  foot  of 
man." 

Near  by  is  Rooster  Rock,  rising  out  of  the  river,  and  pointing  upward  like  a 
mighty  index  finger.  Here  the  railroad  leaves  the  river,  and,  proceeding  directly 
west,  soon  reaches  the  great  city  of  Portland,  finely  situated  on  the  west  side  of 
the  Willamette  river,  twelve  miles  above  its  confluence  with  the  Columbia.  Four- 
teen years  ago  Portland  contained  a  population  of  1,103.  By  1880  the  construc- 
tion of  the  western  section  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  and  the  approach- 
ing completion  of  the  great  trans-continental  system  had  so  stimulated  the 
growth  of  the  city  that  its  population  numbered  23,000. 

Its  rate  of  increase  is  so  rapid  that  any  estimate  of  its  population  that  does 
not  largely  outrun  its  growth  is  soon  left  far  behind.  Perhaps,  therefore,  the  most 
satisfactory  course  is  to  state  that  at  the  end  of  1884  its  inhabitants  approached, 
if  they  did  not  actually  number,  40,000.  But  what  of  its  commercial  interests  ? 
Were  it  an  Eastern  city,  these  might  be  unimportant ;  but  in  his  long  journey  of 
2,320  miles — even  if  he  has  come  no  farther  than  from  Chicago — the  traveler 
has  learned  that  the  relations  between  population  and  commercial  importance 
are  altogether  unlike  what  he  has  been  accustomed  to  in  the  East.  For  truly, 
Chicago  is  a  long  way  east.  In  the  towns  of  Dakota  and  Montana  you  often 
hear  that  such  and  such  a  one  has  "gone  East "  ;  and  when  visions  of  your  own 
New  England  home  rise  up  before  you  and  you  venture  to  inquire  to  what  part, 
you  are  probably  told  St.  Paul  or  Minneapolis.  But  with  regard  to  the  commer- 
cial interests  of  Portland.  Limited  formerly  to  the  surplus  grain  raised  by  a 
small  settlement  in  the  Willamette  valley,  and  accepted  by  its  "  merchants  "  in 
exchange  for  clothing  and  implements,  its  trade  now  requires  a  large  fleet  of  ocean 
steamships,  and  great  cargoes  of  grain  and  canned  salmon  leave  the  Columbia 
river  for  foreign  ports.  The  canning  industry  has  witnessed  an  astonishing 
development  within  a  very  few  years,  the  product  of  the  Columbia  river  fish- 
eries having,  in  1883,  reached  620,438  cases,  representing  a  value  of  two  and 
three-fourths  millions  of  dollars.  Between  Astoria  and  the  Cascades  there  are 
something  like  fifty  canneries,  and  the  shoals  of  fish  with  which  the  river 
abounds  are  captured  and  converted  into  "  canned  salmon  "  as  systematically 
and  expeditiously  as  hog  is  translated  into  pork  at  the  stock  yards  and  packing 
houses  of  Chicago.  An  ingenious  contrivance,  known  as  the  salmon  wheel 
boat,  or  floating  fish  wheel,  by  means  of  which  the  fish  are  literally  scooped  up 
out  of  the  water  in  shoals,  plays  an  important  part  in  this  great  industry. 

The  industries  of  the  country  tributary  to  Portland  are  as  diversified  as 
are  its  surface,  soil  and  climate.  In  addition  to  its  abundant  crops  of  grain 
and  its  practically  inexhaustible  fisheries,  it  has  a  wool  clip  of  great  annual 
value,  the  Yamhill  country  being  almost  entirely  given  up  to  sheep  farming, 
and  producing  an  exceedingly  fine  grade  of  wool. 

Although  one  hundred  miles  from  the  coast,  Portland,  like  London,  Antwerp 
and  Rotterdam,  is,  as  has  already  been  implied,  virtually  a  seaport,  and  its 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  51 

-growth  and  progress  are  based  upon  the  solid  foundations  of  its  natural  advan- 
tages. As  a  city,  it  may  be  remarked  that  it  has  nothing  crude  or  new  in  its 
appearance,  and  no  feature  of  agreeable  town  life  is  wanting.  It  is  a  novel 
experience  to  stand  in  the  primeval  forest  which  hugs  the  city  closely  on  all  sides 
and  look  down  upon  the  bustling  activity  of  trade  and  pleasure.  Here  are  the  tall 
pines  and  the  dark  thicket — there  the  masts,  the  smoky  chimneys,  the  dusty 
streets,  while  far  away  the  lofty  peaks  of  snow-clad  mountains  pierce  the  blue 
vault  of  heaven,  and  glisten  in  the  sunlight  like  crystals  and  gems.  Five  of  the 
grandest  mountains  in  the  world  are  visible  from  here:  Mount  Hood  and 
Mount  Jefferson  to  the  south  ;  Mount  Adams,  Mount  St.  Helens  and  Mount 
Tacoma  (the  Mount  Ranier  of  the  maps)  to  the  north. 

If  it  is  convenient  to  take  a  trip  down  the  river  to  Astoria,  a  town  near  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  founded  by  the  trading  expedition  sent  out  by  John  Jacob 
Astor,  in  1810,  it  will  be  found  to  be  a  most  delightful  excursion,  affording  an 
opportunity  of  observing  the  progress  Portland  is  making  in  its  manufacturing 
and  other  enterprises,  and  of  seeing  something  of  the  busy  commerce,  as  well 
as  the  scenery,  of  the  Lower  Columbia.  While  lacking  the  startling  effects 
peculiar  to  the  upper  and  middle  river,  the  lower  stretch  of  the  Columbia  is 
nevertheless  very  beautiful,  with  its  wilderness  of  shores  and  islands,  its  occa- 
sional bluffs  and  cliffs  often  covered  with  heavy  fir ;  its  broad  flood,  sometimes 
widening  to  miles,  and  always  spreading  out  in  majestic  volume.  Enjoying  all 
the  comforts  of  first-class  travel,  the  tourist  reads  his  "Wonderland"  and 
pencils  his  notes  as  the  boat  glides  down  the  stream  amid  scenes  of  ever- 
varying  beauty. 

The  business  part  of  Astoria  is  built  upon  piles,  and  its  residences  climb  the 
sides  of  the  ridge  which  protects  it  from  the  southwest  storms.  Its  broad  bay 
is  alive  with  shipping,  from  the  river  tug  to  the  ocean  steamer  of  3,000  tons. 

Lumbering  is  becoming  an  important  industry  here,  but  the  great  incentive 
to  growth  is  the  salmon  trade  and  fisheries.  There  are  upward  of  fifty  great 
canning  establishments,  employing,  during  the  fishing  and  packing  season,  thou- 
sands of  men.  The  shores,  for  a  long  distance,  are  lined  with  these  establish- 
ments, and  they  give  the  traveler  a  far  better  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  the 
business  to  which  they  are  devoted  than  any  figures  as  to  the  number  of  cases 
or  the  value  of  the  product.  Various  delightful  excursions  may  be  made  in  the 
vicinity  of  Astoria  ;  among  the  attractions  of  the  neighborhood  being  the 
remarkable  waterfall  on  Young's  river,  and  the  bold  headland  that  forms  the 
cape  north  of  the  entrance  to  the  bay.  From  the  latter  the  view  is  very  fine, 
the  outlook  showing  a  long  sweep  of  ocean  with  the  surf  dancing  on  the  wind- 
ing shore-line  to  the  north. 

South  of  the  bay,  and  directly  facing  the  ocean,  is  Seaside  House,  which 
travelers  seeking  rest  and  quiet  enjoyment  after  the  exciting  pleasures  of  their 
Wonderland  tour,  or  as  a  prelude  to  those  still  to  come,  will  find  as  admirably 
adapted  to  those  ends  as  heart  could  wish  or  fancy  picture. 

We  stated  at  the  outset   that  Portland  and  Tacoma  were  to  the  western 


Sound,  is  but  143  miles  distant.  The  Northern  Pacific  line  from  Portland  fol- 
lows for  about  eight  miles  the  west  shore  of  the  Willamette  river,  and  reaches 
the  head  of  Sauvie's  Island.  Thence  it  continues  down  the  west  arm  of  the 
river  to  its  confluence  with  the  Columbia  at  St.  Helen's.  From  Hunter's  Point, 
thirty-eight  miles  from  Portland,  the  train  is  conveyed  across  the  river  to  Kalama 
by  the  finest  transfer  boat  in  the  world,  built  expressly  for  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railroad  Company,  and  constructed  to  carry  no  fewer  than  thirty  cars  at  one 
time.  From  Kalama  the  track  strikes  almost  directly  northward  for  Puget 
Sound.  The  country  through  which  it  passes  is  well  settled,  and  the  farms 
give  evidence  of  thrift  and  prosperity.  But  the  attention  of  the  tourist,  as  he 
travels  onward  in  a  luxurious  Pullman  car,  is  almost  exclusively  occupied  with 
the  magnificent  peaks  of  the  Cascade  Range,  whose  forms  of  dazzling  white- 
ness constitute,  with  their  background  of  deepest  blue  and  the  sombre  forests 
which  clothe  their  base,  a  series  of  pictures  of  surpassing  beauty.  For  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  after  we  leave  Portland,  there  looms  up  behind  us  the 
imposing  contour  of  Mount  Hood  ;  while  to  the  east  Mount  St.  Helens,  on  the 
nearer,  and  Mount  Adams,  on  the  farther,  side  of  the  Cascades,  afford  many 
fine  views  as  the  train  pursues  its  way  northward. 

The  latter,  Mount  Adams,  is  seen  across  the  wooded  valley  of  the  Nisqually, 
its  white  mass  in  bold  relief  against  the  sky,  its  sides  seamed  in  summer  with 
outcropping  rock  ridges,  the  hollows  between  being  filled  with  never-melting 
snows.  After  leaving  Tenino,  and  at  Yelm  Prairie,  fourteen  miles  beyond, 
there  is  a  revelation  of  unsurpassed  grandeur  in  the  view  of  Mount  Tacoma, 
the  loftiest  of  all  the  snow  mountains.  As  the  train  rushes  onward,  occasional 
breaks  in  the  forest  reveal  this  magnificent  snow-clad  peak.  It  is  about  forty 
miles  distant,  although  it  is  so  distinct  that  it  appears  much  nearer. 

A  few  miles  more  and  we  are  looking  over  the  waters  of  Puget  Sound,  that 
magnificent  inland  sea  on  the  bosom  of  which  all  the  navies  of  the  world  could 
ride  in  safety.  The  exact  location  of  Tacoma,  the  terminus  of  the  line,  and, 
by  the  way,  the  first  point  on  the  Pacific  Ocean  touched  by  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railroad,  is  upon  a  high  plateau  on  Admiralty  Inlet,  at  the  head  of  Commence- 
ment Bay.  The  city  occupies  a  commanding  position,  and  has  an  excellent 
harbor,  capable  of  receiving  the  largest  ocean-going  vessels.  Its  commercial 
interests  are  considerable,  and  rapidly  increasing  in  importance. 

The  excellence  of  the  hotel  accommodations  at  all  the  more  important  points 
along  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  has  frequently  been  a  subject  of  remark 
in  these  pages.  But  while  high  praise  has  been  bestowed,  extravagant  eulogy 
has  been  carefully  avoided.  To  do  the  barest  justice,  however,  to  the  hotel,  The 
Tacoma,  recently  opened  in  this  enterprising  and  prosperous  city  on  Puget  Sound, 
it  must  be  compared — as  well  it  may,  without  suffering  from  the  comparison — 
with  the  most  famous  hotels  of  Chicago  or  New  York. 

The  climate  of    this  region   in  summer  and  in  the  fall  is  delightful,  the 


•>sj(  oh 


(53) 


54  THE   WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

combination  of  sea  and  mountain  air  producing  a  most  invigorating  atmosphere. 
Though  somewhat  humid  in  winter,  it  is  so  mild  that  roses,  geraniums  and  other 
varieties  of  flowers  bloom  in  the  open  air  in  the  month  of  December.  To  the 
scenery  it  is  impossible  to  do  justice — an  exquisitely  beautiful  combination  of 
blue  sky  and  bluer  waters,  and  of  the  bright  green  of  the  grass  and  the  darker 
color  of  the  vast  fir  and  cedar  forests  ;  away  to  the  left  the  bold,  brown  range  of 
the  Olympian  Mountains  ;  on  the  right,  seemingly  not  ten  miles  away,  is  Mount 
Tacoma,  a  mass  of  snow  and  ice,  nearly  15,000  feet  high,  and  red,  pink,  white 
or  gray,  according  to  the  condition  of  the  atmosphere  and  the  position  of  the 
sun  in  the  sky.  In  lines  that  will  live  as  long  as  the  English  language  itself, 
Byron  pronounced  Mont  Blanc  the  monarch  of  mountains.  But  Byron  never 
saw  the  matchless  Tacoma.  It,  too,  has  its  throne  of  rocks,  its  diadem  of 
snow,  and,  though  much  less  frequently  than  Mont  Blanc,  its  robe  of  clouds,  an 
adjunct  of  doubtful  advantage  except  in  the  exigencies  of  versification.  This 
great  mountain,  forty  miles  in  circumference  at  its  base,  and  with  a  superficial 
area  of  1,600  miles,  lifts  its  snowy  head  to  a  height  of  14,444  feet-  It  towers 
like  a  huge  colossus  above  the  great  Cascade  Range,  and  can  be  seen  standing 
out  against  the  sky  a  hundred  miles  away.  In  all  its  history  but  two  men  have 
been  known  to  reach  its  summit,  and  they  were  obliged  to  cut  footsteps  in  the 
ice  and  frozen  snow  with  their  axes.  But  to  a  height  of  11,000  feet  its  northern 
face  is  accessible  to  the  most  timid  ;  ladies,  even,  who  can  ride  on  horseback 
need  not  shrink  from  the  ascent.  This  elevation  commands  a  panoramic  view 
of  Puget  Sound  and  of  all  the  intervening  country,  the  majestic  Olympian  and 
Cascade  Ranges  forming  the  background.  At  one's  feet  lie  the  great  glaciers  of 
the  Puyallup,  Carbon  and  White  rivers,  over  whose  edges  the  avalanche  contin- 
ually thunders. 

Mount  Tacoma  has  no  fewer  than  fifteen  glaciers,  three  of  which  have  been 
made  accessible  to  tourists.  Their  magnificence  completely  defies  all  power  of 
language  to  describe  ;  and  we  are  struck  dumb  with  astonishment  and  awe  as  we 
gaze  upon  them,  imbedded,  as  they  are,  in  the  mighty  bosom  of  the  mountain  ; 
the  stupendous  sides  of  the  canons  in  which  they  lie  forming  alone  one  of  the 
most  awe-inspiring  pictures  upon  which  the  eye  of  man  ever  rested.  Comparing 
them  with  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps,  Senator  Edmunds,  of  Vermont,  says  that 
the  finest  effects  he  ever  saw,  during  a  long  tour  through  the  mountains  of 
Switzerland,  fell  far  short  of  what  is  seen  at  Mount  Tacoma. 

For  the  benefit  of  tourists  who  desire  to  visit  the  glaciers,  it  may  be  stated 
that  the  best  starting  point  is  Tacoma.  The  manager  of  the  Hotel  Tacoma  (a 
most  magnificent  hostelry,  built  by  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  and  Tacoma 
Land  Company  at  a  cost  of  $200,000),  always  has  competent  guides  in  his  employ, 
and  furnishes  complete  camping  outfits  for  parties  of  all  sizes.  From  Tacoma 
the  railway  is  taken  to  Wilkeson,  thirty-one  miles  distant,  whence  the  remaining 
thirty  miles  to  the  mountain  are  traversed  on  horseback.  The  journey  may  be 
made  in  easy  stages,  as  there  are  camps  along  the  entire  route.  Adjacent  to 
them,  are  the  best  trout  streams  in  the  Territory,  affording  to  the  angler  rare 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  55 

sport.  As  one  nears  the  mountain,  flower-bespangled  meadows  and  lakes  in 
extinct  volcanic  craters  become  frequent,  relieving  the  monotony  of  the  miles  of 
otherwise  unbroken  forest  through  which  the  approach  is  made.  Deer,  bear, 
wolf  and  beaver,  with  that  rarest  of  game,  the  Rocky  Mountain  goat,  are  all 
plentiful  about  the  base  of  the  mountain. 

Had  the  opening  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  only  revealed  and  ren- 
dered accessible  to  the  tourist  the  wonders  which  have  been  so  inadequately 
described  in  these  pages,  it  would  have  done  more  for  that  ubiquitous  personage 
than  any  other  single  enterprise  since  the  invention  of  the  steam  engine.  It  has, 
however,  done  much  more  ;  for  it  has  brought  within  the  limits  of  a  summer 

vacation 

The  Land  of  the  Midnight  Sun. 

It  is  to  be  presumed  that  those  who  have  journeyed  so  far  on  this  delightful 
excursion  will  want  to  extend  their  trip  to  Alaska  ;  and,  as  this  may  now  be 
done  cheaply,  comfortably,  and  in  quick  time,  we  shall  ask  them  to  accompany 
us  thither. 

Those  of  us  who  have  to  look  back  to  our  school  days  farther  than  some 
others  remember  the  green-painted  left-hand  top  corner  of  the  continent  that 
used  to  say  "Russian  America."  None  of  us  is  so  young  or  so  ignorant  as  to 
have  to  be  told  how,  in  1867,  the  United  States  purchased  from  the  Russian  gov- 
ernment the  territory  in  question.  There,  however,  we  may  stop  ;  for  no  writer 
can  proceed  to  pay  his  readers  the  compliment  of  stating  that  to  tell  them  any- 
thing about  that  country  is  unnecessary,  seeing  that  little  has  been  written  about 
it,  and  still  less  read.  It  is,  indeed,  a  great  country,  covering  over  580,000  square 
miles,  an  area  which  considerably  exceeds  the  areas  of  Great  Britain,  France  and 
Germany  combined.  In  other  words,  Alaska  is  more  than  ten  times  the  size  of 
the  State  of  Illinois,  or  as  large  as  all  of  the  United  States  east  of  the  Mississippi 
river,  and  north  of  Alabama,  Georgia  and  North  Carolina.  Its  extreme  length 
from  east  to  west  is  2,200  miles,  and  its  breadth  from  north  to  south  1,400  miles. 
Its  shore  line,  including  the  adjacent  islands,  measures  25,000  miles,  or  more  than 
the  circumference  of  the  globe. 

Alaska  is  not  only  "  a  great  land  " — for  such  is  the  etymology  of  its  name — 
in  its  large  area,  but  also  in  its  natural  phenomena. 

Its  mountain  chain  is  the  loftiest  in  North  America,  Mount  St.  Elias  rising  to 
19,500  feet.  It  has  its  great  rivers — the  Yukon,  navigable  for  1,500  miles,  being 
for  a  thousand  miles  of  its  course  from  one  to  five  miles  wide,  and  seventy  miles 
across  its  five  mouths.  Its  volcanic,  glacial  and  geyser  systems  are  probably  the 
greatest  in  the  world.  Its  forests  are  practically  unlimited,  its  fisheries  and  its 
mineral  wealth  inexhaustible. 

We  have  had  many  surprises  in  the  course  of  our  long  tour  through  the  north- 
western portion  of  Uncle  Sam's  dominions.  We  are  not  going  to  crown  them  all 
by  telling  our  fellow  travelers,  who  are  now  ready  to  believe  almost  anything,  that 
they  can  travel  through  Alaska  in  a  Pullman  car.  That  day  has  not  yet  come, 
and  this  generation  will  probably  wait  for  it  in  vain.  But  if  we  can  not  do  that, 


(56, 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  57 

we  can  at  least  take  a  peep  at  one  of  the  most  interesting  portions  of  that  vast 
country.  We  can  go  upon  an  excursion  of  2,000  miles  that  shall  be  one  con- 
tinued revelation  of  beauty  and  wonders,  and  which  need  not  occupy  more  than 
twenty  days. 

Surrounded  by  the  sublimest  scenery  in  the  world,  we  can  walk  the  deck  of  a 
large  and  superbly  equipped  steamship,  and  never  feel  the  wave  of  the  open 
ocean,  or  experience  the  slightest  sensation  of  sea-sickness,  as  we  pursue  our  way 
through  the  marvelous  archipelago  of  the  North  Pacific  Ocean. 

The  Alaska  steamers  to  and  from  Portland  do  not  call  at  Tacoma,  but  con- 
nection is  made  with  them  at  Victoria,  B.  C.,  between  which  port  and  Tacoma  the 
Oregon  Railway  and  Navigation  Company  has  a  regular  service  of  first-class 
steamers.  The  latest  additions  to  the  company's  fleet  are  the  "  Olympian  "  and 
"Alaskan,"  which  are  veritable  floating  palaces.  Built  of  steel,  and  with  engines 
that  propel  them  at  an  average  speed  of  seventeen  miles  an  hour,  they  accom- 
plish the  distance  between  Tacoma  and  Victoria  in  eight  hours.  Each  is  con- 
structed to  carry  1,500  passengers,  and  in  the  completeness  and  magnificence  of 
their  appointments,  and  especially  in  the  elegance  and  comfort  of  their  sleeping 
accommodations,  they  are  not  surpassed  by  the  most  noted  steamer  on  Long 
Island  Sound,  or  the  most  luxurious  Atlantic  liner. 

Steaming  straight  across  the  sound  to  Victoria,  we  are  there  reminded  by  the 
British  flag  that  we  are  in  the  dominions  of  Her  Britannic  Majesty. 

Victoria  is  delightfully  situated  at  the  southeastern  extremity  of  Vancouver 
Island.  With  its  multitudinous  attractions  of  climate,  charming  scenery,  beauti- 
ful drives,  and  rapidly  increasing  advantages  of  communication  with  the  rest  of 
the  world,  it  bids  fair  to  become  one  of  the  most  attractive  towns  in  the  "  Florida 
of  the  Northwest."  The  course  of  our  vessel  lies  through  Haro  Strait,  the  Island 
of  San  Juan  being  to  the  right.  As  we  pass  through  the  narrows  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  see  whither  the  steamer  is  going,  for  its  bow  is  apparently  directed  at  a 
mountain.  But  presently,  just  as  is  so  often  the  case  on  the  Rhine,  we  see  the 
way  opening  before  us,  and  after  two  sharp  turns  we  are  steaming  up  the  Straits 
of  Georgia.  On,  straight  on  we  go,  leaving  behind  the  snow-crowned  Olympian 
Range,  with  the  majestic  summit  of  Mount  Baker  looming  up  against  the  blue 
sky,  past  Nanaimo,  a  coal-mining  camp,  with  an  old  black  fort  which  is  fast  decay- 
ing, and  we  are  in  Departure  Bay.  By  this  time  we  have  become  acquainted 
with  our  compagnons  du  voyage,  and  we  promenade  the  deck  with  new-found 
friends,  listening  to  the  delightful  strains  of  the  ship's  band,  and  looking  over 
the  blue  waters  at  the  dim  outlines  of  the  now  distant  mountains.  Passing 
round  the  northern  extremity  of  Vancouver  Island,  we  enter  the  waters  of 
Queen  Charlotte's  Sound,  and  soon  come  to  Grenville  Channel,  where  some  of 
the  finest  scenery  of  the  excursion  awaits  us.  The  mountains  on  both  sides, 
rugged  and  grand,  lift  their  snowy  heads  thousands  of  feet  into  the  air ;  rocks 
rise  abruptly  from  the  water  to  a  height  of  three  or  four  thousand  feet,  and 
cascades — here  delicate  and  ribbon-like,  there  foaming  and  impetuous — run 
down  to  the  sea. 


58  THE    WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

The  first  point  in  Alaska  at  which  we  shall  touch  will  be  Fort  Wrangel,  situ- 
ated on  the  northwestern  coast  of  Wrangel  Island,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Stickeen 
river,  a  stream  some  200  miles  in  length,  having  its  source  in  British  Columbia. 
During  the  period  of  the  Cassair  mining  excitement  in  the  Stickeen  valley, 
Wrangel  was  somewhat  thickly  settled,  but  now  it  consists  merely  of  a  few  strag- 
gling houses,  and  its  white  population  is  exceedingly  scanty. 

The  Alaska  Indians  are  somewhat  after  the  Mongolian  type,  reminding  the 
traveler  of  the  Chinese,  rather  than  of  the  Indians  of  the  United  States  and 
Canada.  Among  the  customs  peculiar  to  them  is  that  by  which  every  family  is 
distinguished  by  a  badge,  known  as  a  totem,  which  is  used  much  in  the  same  way 
as  is  the  crest  or  coat-of-arms  among  the  old  families  of  Europe,  being  marked 
on  the  houses,  household  utensils,  ornaments  and  even  clothing  of  the  people. 

In  front  of  many  of  their  leading  houses  and  at  their  burial  places  are 
immense  timbers  covered  with  these  devices.  They  vary  from  two  to  five  feet  in 
diameter,  and  are  often  sixty  feet  or  more  in  height,  costing  from  $1,000  to 
$2,000.  The  people  have,  to  a  great  extent,  adopted  the  American  style  of  dress. 
Their  food  consists  largely  of  berries  and  fish,  large  quantities  of  salmon  being 
smoked  and  put  away  for  future  use. 

After  a  brief  stay  we  weigh  anchor,  and  are  soon  winding  through  Wrangel 
Straits,  a  narrow  passage  which  saves  us  a  long  stretch  of  open  sea.  Just  after 
we  leave  the  straits  the  Great  Glacier,  as  it  is  called,  comes  in  view,  and  a  little 
farther  on  a  second.  The  evenings  have  all  the  while  been  getting  perceptibly 
longer ;  and,  although  we  are  still  considerably  below  the  latitude  at  which,  at 
the  summer  solstice,  the  sun  never  sinks  below  the  horizon,  night  is  but  as  a  long 
twilight,  and  we  may  walk  the  deck  till  the  sun  recommences  his  daily  round, 
and  hardly  miss  the  rest  we  have  lost. 

The  distance  from  Fort  Wrangel  to  Sitka  is  only  162  miles.  In  less,  there- 
fore, than  twenty-four  hours,  we  are  sailing  up  the  island-studded  Sitka  Bay,  said 
to  rival  in  picturesqueness  the  far-famed  Bay  of  Naples.  Mount  Edgecumbe, 
an  extinct  volcano,  discovered  by  Bodega,  in  1775,  guards  the  entrance  to  the 
bay,  while  the  sharp,  snowy  summit  of  Vostovia,  surrounded  by  a  group  of  peaks 
and  glaciers,  stands  guard  in  the  rear. 

The  bay  was  first  visited  by  Baranoff,  in  1799,  who  built  a  fort  which  he  called 
Fort  Archangel  Gabriel,  and  took  possession  of  the  country  for  Russia.  Three 
years  later  the  Indians  rose,  captured  the  fort,  and  murdered  all  the  officers  and 
thirty  men.  In  1804  Baranoff  returned  and  recaptured  the  town,  rebuilt  the  fort, 
and  named  the  settlement  New  Archangel.  From  1809  ship-building  became  one 
of  the  active  industries  of  the  place.  The  following  year  the  settlement  was 
visited  by  the  Enterprise,  one  of  the  ships  of  John  Jacob  Astor's  fur  company, 
and  a  Greek  priest  arrived  in  a  sloop-of-war  to  minister  to  the  colonists  in  spir- 
itual things. 

The  growth  and  importance  of  the  place  were  finally  assured  in  1832,  when 
Baron  Wrangel  transferred  the  capital  of  Russian  America  from  St.  Paul  to 
Sitka.  In  1834  it  was  made  the  seat  of  a  bishopric,  Veniaminoff,  an  eminent 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  59 

prelate,  afterward  head  of  the  Greek  Church,  being  elevated  to  the  episcopal 
throne.  About  1837  a  school  was  established  for  the  children  of  the  employes 
of  the  Russian  Fur  Company.  In  1841  an  ecclesiastical  school  of  the  Greek 
Church  was  established,  and  four  years  later  it  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  a  semi- 
nary, a  school  for  the  natives  being  opened  about  the  same  time. 

With  the  American  occupation,  in  1867,  these  schools  were  discontinued,  but 
their  places  were  afterward  taken  by  voluntary  schools,  established  first  by  the 
Presbyterians,  and  subsequently  by  other  Christian  churches. 

When,  in  October,  1867,  Brig.  Gen.  Lovell  H.  Rousseau  took  possession  of 
Sitka  in  the  name  of  the  United  States  Government,  the  place  consisted  of  little 
more  than  an  aggregation  of  rude  log  huts,  with  a  Greek  church  and  governor's 
residence.  But  a  change  rapidly  came  over  it ;  and  it  is  now  a  well-built  town, 
thoroughly  Americanized,  except  in  its  ecclesiastical  architecture  and  the  re- 
ligious rites  of  that  section  of  the  community  which  still  adheres  to  the  Greek 
Church. 

The  church  is  the  most  conspicuous  object  in  the  town.  It  is  built  in  the 
form  of  a  Greek  cross  ;  has  an  emerald-green  dome  over  the  centre,  and  a  bell 
tower  surmounted  by  a  cupola.  One  wing  is  used  as  a  chapel,  and  contains, 
besides  a  curious  font,  an  exquisite  painting  of  the  Virgin  and  Child,  copied 
from  the  celebrated  picture  at  Moscow.  All  the  drapery  is  of  silver,  and  the  halo 
of  gold  ;  so  of  the  painting  itself  nothing  is  seen  but  the  faces  and  background. 
The  chancel,  which  is  raised  above  the  body  of  the  church,  is  approached  by 
three  broad  steps,  leading  to  four  doors,  two  of  which  are  handsomely  carved  and 
richly  gilded,  and  contain  .four  oval  and  two  square  has  reliefs.  Above  is  a  large 
picture  of  the  Last  Supper,  covered  like  that  of  the  Madonna,  with  silver,  as  are 
two  others,  one  on  each  side  of  the  altar.  Across  the  threshold  of  these  doors 
no  woman  may  set  her  foot.  The  doors,  however,  usually  stand  open,  and  the 
priest  in  residence  is  exceedingly  courteous  to  visitors,  showing  them  the  costly 
and  magnificent  vestments  and  the  Bishop's  crown,  almost  covered  with  pearls 
and  amethysts.  The  ornaments  and  the  candelabra  are  all  of  silver,  the  walls 
are  hung  with  portraits  of  princes  and  prelates,  and  the  general  effect  is  rich  in 
the  extreme. 

Next  to  the  church  in  interest — with  some  visitors  probably  ranking  before 
it — is  the  old  castle  on  the  hill.  Here,  in  days  gone  by,  the  stern  Romanoff 
ruled  with  iron  hand.  After  being  twice  destroyed,  first  by  fire  and  then  by 
an  earthquake,  the  castle  was  rebuilt  so  strongly  that  it  will  probably  stand  for 
ages  much  as  it  is  to-day.  It  is  now  used  as  a  United  States  signal  office,  and 
it  has  a  ball-room  and  theatre  with  the  same  old  brass  chandeliers  that  adorned 
it  in  its  glory.  The  whole  building  has  a  melancholy  and  desolate  appearance  ; 
but  it  is  of  exceeding  interest,  speaking  to  us  as  it  does  of  the  despotism  that 
formerly  ruled  in  its  halls  and  courts.  There  is  a  tradition,  that,  when  Baron 
Romanoff  was  governor,  he  had  living  with  him  an  orphan  niece  and  ward 
who  was  very  beautiful.  But  when  the  baron  commanded  her  to  marry  a  power- 
ful prince,  who  was  a  guest  at  the  castle,  she  refused,  having  given  her  heart  to 


(GO; 


TO    THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  61 

a  handsome  young  lieutenant  of  the  household.  The  old  baron,  who,  like  the 
rest  of  his  race,  was  an  accomplished  diplomat,  feigning  an  interest  in  the  young 
lieutenant  which  he  did  not  feel,  sent  him  away  on  a  short  expedition,  and  in  the 
meantime  hurried  on  the  preparations  for  the  marriage  of  the  unhappy  girl  to  the 
prince.  Deprived  of  the  support  of  her  lover's  counsels  and  presence,  she  yielded 
to  the  threats  of  her  uncle,  and  the  ceremony  was  solemnized.  Half  an  hour 
after  the  marriage,  while  the  rejoicing  and  the  gayety  were  at  their  height,  the 
young  lieutenant  strode. into  the  ball  room,  his  travel-stained  dress  and  haggard 
appearance  contrasting  strangely  with  the  glittering  costumes  and  gay  faces  of 
the  revelers  ;  and  during  the  silence  which  followed  his  ominous  appearance,  he 
stepped  up  to  the  hapless  girl  and  took  her  hand.  After  gazing  for  a  few 
moments  on  the  ring  the  prince  had  placed  there,  he,  without  a  word,  and  before 
any  one  could  interfere,  drew  a  dagger  from  his  belt  and  stabbed  her  to  the  heart. 
In  the  wild  confusion  that  followed  he  escaped  from  the  castle  ;  and,  overcome 
with  grief,  unable  to  live  without  the  one  he  so  fondly  loved  yet  ruthlessly  mur- 
dered, he  threw  himself  into  the  sea.  And  now  her  spirit  is  seen  on  the  anni- 
versary of  her  wedding  night,  her  slender  form  robed  in  heavy  silk  brocade, 
pressing  her  hands  on  the  wound  in  her  heart,  the  tears  streaming  from  her 
eyes.  Sometimes,  before  a  severe  storm,  she  makes  her  appearance  in  the  little 
tower  at  the  top  of  the  building  once  used  as  a  lighthouse.  There  she  burns  a 
light  until  dawn  for  the  spirit  of  her  lover  at  sea. 

The  whole  of  the  Sitkan  district  is  mountainous  in  the  extreme,  and  the 
larger  portion  covered .  with  dense  forests.  Craters  of  extinct  volcanoes  are 
numerous,  among  the  most  notable  being  that  of  Mount  Edgecumbe,  which  is 
2,000  feet  across  and  about  400  feet  deep.  This  mountain  is  to  the  Indians  a 
veritable  Olympus.  On  the  Naass  river  is  a  remarkable  lava  overflow  from  a 
volcano  in  the  neighborhood.  This,  too,  is  the  great  glacier  region.  On  Lynn 
Channel  is  a  glacier  computed  to  be  1,200  feet  thick  at  its  lower  projection. 
In  one  of  the  gulches  of  Mount  Fairweather  is  a  glacier  that  extends  fifty  miles 
to  the  sea,  where  it  ends  abruptly  in  a  perpendicular  ice-wall  300  feet  high  and 
eight  miles  broad.  On  the  Stickeen  river,  between  two  mountains  3,000  feet 
high,  is  another,  forty  miles  long,  and  four  to  five  miles  across  at  its  base,  with  a 
depth  variously  estimated  at  from  500  to  1,000  feet.  There  is  a  magnificent 
glacier  near  Cape  Fanshaw,  of  which  the  following  admirable  description  is 
given  by  Professor  John  Muir,  State  Geologist  of  California  : 

"  The  whole  front  and  brow  of  this  majestic  glacier  is  dashed  and  sculptured 
into  a  maze  of  yawning  chasms  and  crevices  and  a  bewildering  variety  of  strange 
architectural  forms,  appalling  to  the  strongest  nerves,  but  novel  and  beautiful 
beyond  measure ;  clusters  of  glittering  lance-tipped  spires,  gables  and  obelisks, 
bold  outstanding  bastions  and  plain  mural  cliffs,  adorned  along  the  top  with 
fretted  cornice  and  battlement,  while  every  gorge  and  crevasse,  chasm  and 
hollow  was  filled  with  light,  shimmering  and  pulsing  in  pale  blue  tones  of  ineffa- 
ble tenderness  and  loveliness.  On  the  broad,  waving  bosom  of  the  glacier 
water  streams  are  outspread  in  a  complicated  network,  each  in  its  own  friction- 


62  THE  WONDERLAND  ROUTE 

less  channel  cut  down  through  the  porous,  decaying  ice  of  the  surface  into  the 
quick  and  living  blue,  and  flowing  with  a  grace  of  motion  and  a  ring  and  gurgle 
and  flashing  of  light  to  be  found  only  on  the  crystal  hills  and  dales  of  a  glacier. 
Along  the  sides  we  can  see  the  mighty  flood  grinding  against  the  granite  with 
tremendous  pressure,  rounding  the  outswelling  bosses,  deepening  and  smoothing 
the  retreating  hollows,  and  shaping  every  portion  of  the  mountain  walls  into  the 
forms  they  were  meant  to  have.  Two  or  three  miles  from  the  front  the  current 
is  now  probably  about  1,200  feet  deep  ;  but  the  grooved  and  rounded  features  of 
the  walls,  so  surely  glacial,  show  that  in  the  earlier  days  of  the  ice-age  they  were 
all  overswept,  this  glacier  having  flowed  at  a  height  of  from  three  to  four 
thousand  feet  above  its  present  level." 

The  country  abounds  in  hot  mineral  springs,  several  large  ones  being  situated 
south  of  Sitka.  On  Unimak  Island  is  a  lake  of  sulphur.  Near  the  Volcano 
Pogrumnoi  are  hot  marshes.  In  the  crater  of  Goreloi  is  a  vast  boiling,  steaming 
mineral  spring  eighteen  miles  in  circumference  !  A  lake  strongly  impregnated 
v:ith  nitre  is  found  on  Beaver  Island,  while  the  thermal  springs  on  the  island  of 
Unalashka  hold  sulphur  in  solution.  These  are  but  a  few  of  the  natural  phe- 
nomena of  Alaska.  It  is,  indeed,  a  land  of  manifold  wonders,  and  a  fit  climax  to 
our  tour  through  the  Wonderland  of  the  World. 

With  regard  to  the  climate,  it  would  be  a  great  mistake  to  suppose  that  it  is 
tolerable  only  in  summer.  The  greatest  cold  recorded  at  Sitka  during  a  period 
of  forty-five  years  was  -4°,  while  on  the  other  hand  the  temperature  never 
exceeded  87°.  During  only  four  of  those  forty-five  years  did  the  thermometer 
register  a  temperature  below  zero,  and  during  only  seven  did  it  rise  above  80°. 
During  the  winter  of  1877-8  the  coldest  night  at  Sitka  only  formed  ice  the  thick- 
ness of  a  knife-blade  on  a  barrel  of  rain-water  under  the  eaves  of  a  house.  This 
mild  climate  is  due  to  the  Japan  Gulf  Stream,  which  first  strikes  the  North  Amer- 
ican continent  at  the  Queen  Charlotte  Islands,  in  latitude  50°  north.  Here  the 
stream  divides,  one  portion  going  northward  and  westward  along  the  coast  of 
Alaska,  and  the  other  southward  along  the  coast  of  British  Columbia,  Washing- 
ton Territory,  Oregon,  and  California,  giving  them  their  mild  winter  climate. 
The  former  stream,  flowing  northward,  has  been  named  the  Alaska  Current,  and 
gives  the  great  southern  coast  of  Alaska  a  winter  climate  as  mild  as  that  of  one- 
third  of  the  United  States.  Part  of  it  continues  up  through  Behring's  Straits, 
and  that  is  the  reason  why  ice  never  drifts  through  those  straits  into  the  Pacific 
Ocean. 

The  mineral  wealth  of  the  country  is  not  of  particular  interest  to  us  as  tour- 
ists. The  quartz  mining  carried  on  at  the  Haley  &  Miletich  mine,  near  Sitka,  is, 
however,  worth  seeing.  We  reach  the  mine  by  crossing  to  the  head  of  Silver 
Bay,  ten  miles  distant,  over  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  in  which  vessels  of  any 
tonnage  can  ride  at  anchor  within  twenty-five  feet  of  the  shore.  A  walk  of  less 
than  a  mile  will  bring  us  to  the  shaft. 

The  Governor  of  the  Territory,  in  a  report  dated  October  i,  1884,  states  that 
the  mining  industry  of  the  country  bids  fair  to  become  of  great  importance  ;  and 


(63} 


64 

he  adds  that,  wheje  it  has  languished  in  the  past,  it  has  been  because  the  only 
recognized  title  to  the  property  of  the  miner  was  that  of  force. 

"  The  good  old  rule, 

The  simple  plan, 

That  they  should  take  who  have  the  power, 
And  they  should  keep  who  can," 

has,  however,  passed  away  with  the  introduction  of  civil  law,  and  henceforward 
a  stable  and  equal  government  will  see  that  every  legitimate  encouragement  is 
given  to  the  development  of  the  mineral  resources  of  the  country. 

Whatever  measure  of  success  may,  however,  attend  the  -endeavors  put  forth 
from  time  to  time  to  this  end,  the  purchase  of  Alaska  by  the  United  States  Gov- 
ernment has  been  abundantly  justified  by  the  value  of  its  fisheries.  Its  waters 
are  so  richly  stocked  with  herring,  cod  and  salmon  that  it  is  not  unlikely  that 
the  Territory  will  become  the  great  supply  ground  of  the  world.  The  North- 
west Trading  Company,  consisting  chiefly  of  Portland  capitalists,  has  established 
stations  at  all  the  more  important  points  along  the  coast,  and  has  erected 
machinery,  at  a  cost  of  no  less  than  $18,000,  for  extracting  from  the  fish  the 
valuable  oil  they  contain. 

Alaska  possesses,  furthermore,  the  most  valuable  fur-seal  fisheries  in  exist- 
ence, and  it  is  something  to  know  that  under  a  system  of  protection,  of  the  wis- 
dom of  which  there  can  not  be  two  opinions,  fur-seals,  diminishing  in  number 
in  every  other  part  of  the  world,  are  here  increasing  so  rapidly  that  the  number 
annually  slaughtered  might  be  doubled  without  even  the  remotest  danger  of 
exhausting  the  supply. 

Home  Again. 

A  pleasant  sail  to  Portland,  a  rapid  run  over  mountain  and  prairie,  and  our 
Wonderland  becomes  a  thing  of  the  past.  It  remains,  however,  to  the  end  of 
our  lives  a  bright  chapter  in  our  experience,  to  the  glowing  pictures  of  which*  we 
shall  constantly  recur  with  ever-increasing  delight.  And  when  the  Chicagos  of 
the  coming  time  line  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  and  the  valleys  of  the  great 
Northwest  teem  with  a  happy  and  prosperous  people,  we  shall  have  a  peculiar 
satisfaction  in  remembering  that  we  traveled  through  that  great  country  before 
commerce  and  manufactures  had  robbed  it  of  any  of  its  original  beauty,  or  the 
development  of  its  vast  resources  wrought  that  entire  change  in  its  character 
which  is'  now  only  a  question  of  time. 

We  do  not  want  to  see  the  Falls  of  the  Yellowstone  driving  the  looms  of  a 
cotton  factory,  or  the  great  geysers  boiling  pork  for  some  gigantic  packing-house, 
but  in  all  the  native  majesty  and  grandeur  in  which  they  appear  to-day,  without, 
as  yet,  a  single  trace  of  that  adornment  which  is  desecration,  that  improvement 
which  is  equivalent  to  ruin,  or  that  utilization  which  means  utter  destruction. 


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